And So The Angels Cry
by KimiruMai
Summary: Trapped in a place where darkness reigns, and brought out only to be bruised by the cruelty that is the Kold Empire, two teens find themselves growing into ugly beings with no hope of redemption. Each tries to protect the other with willful sacrifice, and separation wears their bond thin, but they vow it won't break as long as they both breathe, no matter how many tears they cry.
1. The Brig

**Alright, I swear. Last time I'm revising this. This isn't major revision this time; I'm just going to switch POV's. I decided that all 3****rd**** person gives people better feels, and better imagery. It's harder to put things into the perspective of a single person, so this should be much better. **

**For those of you that haven't read this story before, WELCOME to one of my first masterpieces ^^ I'm ecstatic that you've decided to read it, and I sincerely hope you like it. If you're a sucker for long chapters, this story is full of them. If not…well, they aren't too terribly long, I don't think. **

**For those of you who have read this before, there will be major edits here, so that I don't hate this story anymore. It of course will have the same plotline, just rewritten so it'll be…not horrible.**

**All thoughts and memories, private or otherwise, will be in italics. **

**Summary: Trapped in a place where darkness reigns, and brought out only to be bruised by the cruelty that is the Kold Empire, two teenagers find themselves growing into ugly beings with no hope of redemption. Each tries to protect the other with willful sacrifice, and separation wears their bond thin, but they vow it won't break, no matter how many tears they cry. **

**Disclaimer: I am not Japanese. **

**Song Prompt: In The Dark ~ Flyleaf**

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><p><strong>And So The Angels Cry<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Brig<strong>

_There's only artificial light here  
>My flaws hide well here<br>I used to be afraid of cluttered noises  
>Now I'm afraid of silence.<em>

Her face twisted in horror as her parent's bodies fell to the ground with a sickening thud. The man responsible stood before her was tall and muscular, with pale blue skin and vibrant green hair tied back in a thick braid. His purple sleeves were stained dark with blood, as were his almost feminine hands. Those hands, with their delicate nails and smooth palms, had just slaughtered her parents.

The man studies the red liquid on his fingers for a moment before he gingerly licked them clean, and his amber eyes slid to the young girl that remained alive. "Poor child," he crooned. "Poor, innocent thing."

The girl flinched back, her eyes overflowing with tears.

"It's alright. Just come here, and it'll all be over. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

She whimpered, pressing herself against the walls of her trashed living room. This couldn't be happening. Not to her. Her life was supposed to be perfect. She was supposed to grow up…she was supposed to make it to college. She was supposed to find her perfect man, have his children, give her parents grandchildren. Nobody said catastrophe could cast its dark shadow over her. This…this was all wrong.

"Don't be afraid," he said quietly, almost like a whisper. "You can go with mommy and daddy soon. Come here…don't run from me."

And suddenly the blue glass over his eye flashed with oddly shaped characters, and a fast series of beeps sounded from the white piece that fitted over his ear. He reached up and pressed a button, and a scratchy, high voice that matched a witch came over the speaker. She could just barely hear it, but whoever it was, the pale look on the man's face said that the person was important.

"Zarbon!" the voice screeched.

The man, Zarbon, winced. "Yes, Lord Frieza?"

The name gave her chills. "You haven't killed the man in the big dome house, have you?"

Zarbon's face paled again. "I…I received no orders that I shouldn't…"

"Have you or have you not?!"

"I…have, sire."

"Good grief…and what of his daughter?"

"His…his daughter, sire? She's here…"

"Alive?"

"Yes, sire."

"Excellent. She's sure to have either her father's smarts or her mother's looks….escort her to the prison on Chikyuu's moon when you've finished up there. She is not to be touched, understood?"

"Yes, sire."

"Good. And leave the house be…tourist might find it to be an interesting monument." And then there was another beep, and Zarbon relaxed. "Aren't you a lucky child," he said, his tone sarcastic. "I pity you, really. Death would have been a kinder fate."

She was silent and perfectly still, save her tears. Her sobs became quiet, and she did not verbally object when he hoisted her over his shoulder. She said nothing as he trapped her in his small ship for days, only letting her out to use the bathroom once or twice a day, and fed her minimally.

And throughout all of this, while she watched her world burn, she said nothing. No one near or far would have heard her screams, no matter how often she opened her mouth.

The trauma had struck the voice out of her.

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><p>"Father…" he whispered.<p>

He was a strong child, both mentally and physically. He was considered a prodigy, not just among his people, but among even the royal line. Grown men feared him at the age of five. Now he could easily overtake even his father. His potential was unrivaled throughout the planet; he was someday destined to be a Super Saiyan, and eventually, King. That of course did not mean that he would want to overthrow his father. The young prince was content to wait until it was his turn to ascend to the throne, for he loved his old man very much. The King was his role model, his teacher, and the prince viewed him to be the wisest on the planet, the smartest and most cunning. He quite adored his father, whom he was a carbon copy of, minus the sharp widow's peak and thick beard, and would never wish any harm to come to him.

That's why, when he found the King's body, he felt as though someone had stabbed a knife into his chest and twisted.

"Father?" he murmured softly. "Dad?"

The king was unresponsive, and the prince hissed in grief. "Father! Get up! I demand that you get up!"

Nothing.

It wasn't true. He was dreaming, surely. This was a simple nightmare, nothing more. His father was a king, and if he was do die, then it was to be of old age, or in a glorious battle that songs would be written for, and history books lengthened.

He was not dreaming, but oh how he wished he was.

"Wake up! Father, you're not dead, you're not! Get up now! Answer me!" He paused and choked, his vision clouding with hot, salty tears. "Please…" He was unaccustomed to begging, unfamiliar with such bitter tears, and therefore had no idea how to stop it, or to rein it in and control it.

"You can cry all you like…" a slithering voice said, "You can scream…but there is nothing you can do to bring him back, little prince. Tell me…what's it like, being so helpless?"

He glanced back, and in his peripheral vision, he could see the lizard. He could see the sharp black horns and the long black claws that hung from small purple hands, and the white armor that almost seemed organic. He could see those thin purple lips, pressed together in a sneer, and the blood red eyes that watched him.

His eyes widened for a moment as he realized the deceptive betrayal. He recalled in detail how he'd felt about the tyrant as a child, how the mere presence of the Ice-jinn made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. Instinct had warned him of a snake in the palace, but for the emperor to escalate to this…?

His mouth hardened, his teeth bared as a growl surfaced from the back of his throat. Frieza was correct…he was helpless. He had never felt so weak and unworthy…and afraid. He was deathly afraid, because he did not know what this man was capable of. Suddenly, murder seemed like a mercy.

He buried his face in his father's dark red cloak, his shoulders shaking with a sob he would not voice. His jaw worked with the effort of holding back a sound, his fingers gripping red material and his brows knitted tightly enough to hurt.

"I'll give you a choice," Frieza said smoothly, his tone unsympathetic. "You may obey me and be recruited into my army, and in turn do whatever it is I ask of you, without question. Otherwise, I can simply have you transported to my newest prison in the North Quadrant. I can still have…uses for you there." He paused for a moment, considering. "And don't ask me to kill you, because I won't. I need a souvenir from this place, and living specimens are generally preferred."

_How dare he think I'd serve him faithfully…_"Never," he snarled, his voice muffled by the cloak.

"I thought as much," Frieza said, slightly disappointed. Calmly (as though such a task were an everyday thing) he crossed the throne room and picked the prince up by his hair. The boy screamed and kicked, clawing at Frieza's wrist with his nails, but left no mark on the white armor.

"And off to the dungeon with you," Frieza said, almost amusedly.

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><p>He did not bother marking the days that he was kept in that dark cell by himself, as most might, although he reckoned that he'd been there for perhaps two months or so. He did not, however, care how long he was there, not at all. The fact was that he'd been put there in the first place was what made his blood boil. It stung his pride and made him feel inferior to know that he'd been contained...and to know that guards here would be much stronger than him, thanks to the damned collar on his neck…<p>

He reached up and touched it carefully, wary of the needles that he knew were infused in the collar. Depending on the setting, those needles could either prick him and pour poison into his bloodstream, or simply shoot out and skewer him. He was not keen on finding out which setting his was set to, but he somewhat hoped that it was set to skewer, because dying of poison seemed rather pathetic and anticlimactic.

Through his gloves, he felt the smoothness of the metal, and the flat, blinking red light on the side that meant the collar was working. It had taken many men to pin him down, but once they had, clipping that collar into place was all it took to render him as weak as a newborn third class.

He ached, his body dotted with bruises and painted with fresh scars. He was unclean, filthy, and violated. He felt disgusting and worthless, and his pride had been dampened in a way that a man could not recover from, far too many times.

And when his mind slipped, his black eyes would darken with a sworn vow of bloody vengeance.

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><p>The pod landed roughly in a cushion-like device, which frightened her terribly, seeing as the pod hadn't slowed down in the slightest before landing. The cushion then moved forward as though on a flat escalator, and brought into an indoor platform surrounded by a wide half circle of pods. Once the doors closed, Zarbon opened his pod and dragged her out, uncaring about her physical or mental wellbeing. He barked orders at her as though she was a dog, and she took it all in silence. There was, of course, no other way to take such a thing, as her ability to speak had all but died. It was probably a good thing, she thought, because if she had her voice, she'd scream and wail and cry, and he'd certainly kill her for such behavior. Already, just because of her consistent, soundless chokes and sobs, he was glaring at her as though he'd been inconvenienced in the most grievous of ways.<p>

His beauty was wasted on such an evil man. She didn't understand it, how a horrible person like him could be so beautiful, and yet some of the nicest people on Chikyuu had been less than attractive. It seemed unfair…a small injustice in a world of horrors.

"I'm assuming," he said, "that Lord Frieza will keep you here until you're old enough to be of use in a lab. The other scientists wouldn't take so kindly to have such a young co-worker." He paused and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "It's a shame you're pretty too. Who knows what he'll do with you then. Lord Frieza loves beautiful people." The last part was said bitterly.

That made her nervous; she was young and naïve, but even a ten year old could make minor guesses.

She looked around at her surroundings, and when she looked to her left, she could see Chikyuu out one of the windows of the hall. Her eyes widened as she realized that the aliens had built a prison on her moon. Anger boiled up inside her, but at the same time, she marveled. They'd installed a gravity canceling device that allowed them to walk as though there wasn't a lack of gravity at all.

He led her down countless hallways, the walls of which were lined with doors. Each of these doors, she would later find out, had a barred cell behind it, and each cell had a neighboring cell, and thus, each door had a neighboring door. They were blocked in pairs, and each pair could hold up to four people in total. Finally, after much walking, they came to a seemingly empty cell, which Zarbon unlocked and tossed her into.

"These will be your quarters," he said, mocking her. "Enjoy your stay."

And with that, he locked the barred door, and slammed the hall door shut. The cell became immersed in darkness, lit only by dull fluorescent lights that casts an eerie shadow over everything present in her newfangled…bedroom.

Terrified, and with tears welling, she looked around her new living space. Her cell was actually quite large, perhaps 14 x 16 in size, which seemed appropriate given that she might one day have a cellmate (oh, how she prayed that day would never come). A small, dusty cot with a scratchy blanket and pillow sat against the wall in the middle of the cell, and a few feet away from that was a slightly dusty toilet with no apparent flushing mechanism or toilet paper in sight. There was no shower, or sink, and that was all that was in the cell.

Biting her lip, she glanced over at the neighboring cell, fearful and, simultaneously, hopeful, that she'd been left alone in here for who knows how long. In the hazy lighting, she saw the shape of what appeared to be a young human boy sitting in the corner of the cell, farthest away from the door and closest to her. He was perfectly still, and she heard no other sounds besides her own breathing, and she thus came to the unfortunate conclusion that he was dead.

As a fairly normal human girl, whose previous views of death had consisted of old, wrinkly relatives lying in caskets, the dam built for holding back tears broke, and she cried bitterly. She cried so hard that she eventually started to cough and hiccup like an infant, and she didn't much care about her lack of dignity. This carried on for perhaps ten minutes, although she had no real way of telling.

Eventually, this became annoying to her cellmate, who, in fact, was very much alive. Unbeknownst to her, he had been glancing at her irritably out of one eye, and rolling his eyes in annoyance for some time now. As his patience was short (although he'd been very generous with his tolerance towards her, he believed) he finally snapped, "For God's sake, I am trying to meditate here. Shut the hell up."

She was so surprised by his sudden outburst that she nearly wet herself (_nearly_, she'd point out), and certainly would have screamed in terror if she was currently in possession of properly working vocal cords. A million questions sprang from her mouth, until she realized that he heard nothing of her tearful banter. Finally, speechless (in more than one sense of the word) she pointed at him with her mouth hanging open, to further exaggerate her shock.

Perplexed by her antics, he leaned forward, and his face came into the light. He was handsome, although his cheeks and jaw were still slightly rounded with what he considered very annoying baby fat. His skin was the color of caramel, and what little she could see of it seemed perfectly unblemished. His hair, which somehow managed to hang over his face in thick bangs and stand straight up at the same time, was charcoal black, and his eyes shown like obsidians (although whether they were really that dark or made murky by the poor lighting, she was unsure of). His finely shaped mouth was set in a very put-off scowl, which very nearly seemed permanent, as it appeared to fit his features rather naturally. He dressed in white armor similar to Zarbon's, but instead of frilly stockings, he wore a dark blue body suit made of tight material. His clothing was torn, and appeared to be splotched with blood, although he himself seemed virtually unharmed.

"I'm alive, if that was your petty concern," he said, intentionally rude.

She frowned at him and wiped tears from her eyes. Feeling a bit silly, she pointed at him again, then made a questioning shrug.

The boy cocked his head, his frown deepening. "You can't talk, can you," he said, more as a statement than a question.

She shook her head.

He pressed his lips together, and something like a growl of contempt sounded from him. Disgusted by her taken aback expression, he closed his eyes again and slumped against the wall, arms folded.

Bulma frowned again, displeased by his uncouth demeanor. Figuring that a few years in a cell with only an unresponsive cellmate for company would be rather bleak, she crawled over to him and poked his shoulder through the bars.

He opened one eye again, clearly not amused. When he closed it again and received the same treatment, he let out another growling sound and glared at her. "You won't leave me be until I figure out how to communicate with you, are you?"

She looked sheepish.

He scowled and looked her over, determined to find some fault with her that would further prompt him to ignore her presence. She was pale skinned, (not Frieza-pale, thankfully, but cream-skinned) with big, intelligent blue eyes and delicate features, also rounded with youth. Her hair wasn't any discernible color; it was slightly purple, but also cerulean blue, and the two were so evenly mixed that he couldn't properly tell which was dominant. She was very pretty, very exotically colored, but she was almost shamefully thin, and didn't appear to have an ounce of usable muscle on her.

She looked at him expectantly, and he didn't think her silent threat of never-ending pokes was a bluff. His mood was instantly darkened, as he disliked making links with anyone, especially strangers, but he decided that if she annoyed him too much, he could simply block her.

He set his mouth in a lopsided scowl, which was undeniably more ill-mannered than his straight one, and motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated, and with better reason than she realized, but his patience was worn thin already, and so he quickly reached through the bars and snagged her wrist, pulling her closer. "Be grateful," he barked, and put two fingers to her forehead.

A small shock pulsed through her, and she lurched back. Shimmering energy seemed to ripple under her skin, and when it finally faded, she felt slightly numb all over. _What did he do to me?!_

_I gave us a link, _he said, his lips unmoving. At her gasp, he added, _I assume you can hear me now. _

_I…how is this possible?_

The boy shrugged. "Saiyans possess minor telepathic abilities. They're easily transferable, if one has enough training."

_Sa…Saiyan? _

"My race," he said dryly.

_Oh…_She'd thought he was human, but she didn't send that particular thought to him. She bit her lip in disappointment, then asked, _So…I'm like a telepath now? _

"A _minor_. Don't expect to be able to read minds. You can simply communicate."

_Oh. _She paused. _Who are you?_

"Prince _Vegeta_."

_A…A prince?!_ Poorly timed excitement bloomed in her; despite her circumstances, it was no secret that she had always longed to meet someone of royalty.

He scoffed, as if the idea of him being anything else was ludicrous. "Prince of the Saiyan Race, yes."

_Wow…how did you wind up in here, then?_

His already sour expression harshened. "I'm the last of my kind," he said, almost defiantly. "I'm here because I refuse to obey the orders of Frieza." He spat the name, as though saying it was poisonous enough to strike him dead.

Her face softened. _Your planet was destroyed too?_

His eyes narrowed. "My planet was blown to pieces by that disgusting lizard," he snarled. "Yours is still intact, at least."

She blinked. _It is?_

"Frieza had his eye on Chikyuu for ages," Prince Vegeta said bitterly. "It's a perfect getaway resort for the rich. But why he'd keep any humans alive is beyond me."

She bit her lip. _Zarbon…he killed my parents. He was told to bring me here in place of my father…or my mother, whichever I turn out to be most like._

The prince glanced at her, and she elaborated, _My father was the smartest man on Chikyuu, and a master inventor. _

He nodded. "And your mother?"

Bulma frowned and fought a rising lump in her throat. _She was very pretty._

"Your fate is unpleasant, no matter which parent you take after."

_I take after my father, _she said firmly, hurriedly brushing tears from her eyes.

He looked at her pretty, girlish face again, and said, "I'm sure."

It was quiet for a minute, save for her sniffling, and she drew her knees up to her chest. _I'm Bulma Briefs, _she said, seeing as he wasn't going to ask for her name.

"That is a long name," he said, disinterested.

_Humans have three names…Don't you? _

"No. I don't see why I'd need three names. One is enough."

_It's in case someone else has your same name. There could be a million Bulma's, but only one Bulma Anne Briefs. _

"I come from a long line of royals by the name of Vegeta," he said proudly, "and I've yet to see such a problem."

_Okay, so what, you're Vegeta the 27__th__ or something? There's still a distinction between you and your grandfathers. _

He scowled; 27th indeed. "I am the last Vegeta, and that's enough distinction," he sniffed.

She became quiet again, but a moment later, said, _I didn't realize there were aliens that looked so similar to humans. _

He grunted, which sounded more like a conversation ender than a form of acknowledgement, and it appeared that this particular topic was not one he was interested in continuing. "Alright, listen Bulmoose –"

_Bulma!_

"Whatever. I'm not big on talking, and I see no reason to change that about myself to accommodate your preferences. If I appear to be concentrating, or training, do not interrupt me. It will not be appreciated."

She glared at him. _I have enough to deal with without having to worry about your personal comfort, _she snapped. _I'll talk…I'll communicate whenever I see fit, and I'd like to see you stop me._

He raised a thick black brow, suddenly intrigued by her change in demeanor. It was almost reminiscent of his mother. A wild grin suddenly bloomed on his face, and sharp, pearly white teeth gleamed even in the poor lighting. "Is that a challenge?"

His twisted smile startled her, and she drew back. _You don't scare me, _she said firmly, although this wasn't entirely true.

"Aw, and just when I was looking to make a coward out of someone."

_You're very cruel, _she stated.

His face darkened in a way that seemed fit to compliment the devil. "You don't know the meaning of the word 'cruel'," he hissed.

_My whole world was murdered days ago, and my parents in front of my own eyes, _she snapped back. _I think I have a pretty good idea. _

Another animal sound came out of his mouth, like a snarl. Something brown around his waist moved and uncurled in anger, and it appeared to be covered in fur.

She blinked. A tail…

When he saw her glance at it, it wrapped around his middle again and tightened defensively. She decided not to question him about it, as it seemed to be a rather normal thing to him, and found that he kept glancing at her as if to see where she might be hiding such an appendage. The two did not talk for the next hour, until Vegeta murmured something to himself in a language she did not understand.

"Descrein locrata heizt," he muttered.

_What? _

"Descrein locrata heizt," he repeated, but he had a distant look on his face that made her wonder if he'd even heard her. "I will get out of here."

Desperation made her hopeful. _Take me with you, _she pleaded.

He blinked and looked at her, as though remembering her existence. "Have you lost your mind?" he snapped.

_I can help. I'm smart. I can hack any computer, fix spaceships…I'm not as good as my dad, but I'm a prodigy. I can be useful. _She paused, and looked at him again. _That thing on your neck, _she said, motioning to the collar and its blinking red light. _What does it do?_

"It drains my Ki," he said coldly. "So I can't fight."

_What's Ki? _

"How did your species survive?" he asked incredulously. "Ki is energy drawn from within the body, used for flight and offensive maneuvers. This collar traps mine inside of me, in order to prevent my escape and slaughtering of each of Frieza's lackeys."

_You are violent, _she said, her eyes still glued to the contraption. After a while ,she said confidently, _I can get it off. _

His eyes became wide, but narrowed suspiciously a moment later. "How?"

_It wouldn't be that hard to design a remote to control it, _she stated boastfully. _All I would need are some tools…provided that you take me with you. _

He felt the need to dislike her, as she had just made a rather good argument in her favor. The way she'd played it made it sound as though he couldn't possibly escape without her help in the first place. Scowling, he said, "If I do, you'd better not slow me down. Once I get what I want, I won't protect you, got it?"

She nodded eagerly.

He growled again and settled back into his corner. She started to ask him more questions, but was interrupted by the opening of the door, and an aggravated Zarbon re-entered, this time through Vegeta's door. "Frieza has need of you," he spat.

Vegeta pushed himself further into the corner, his features twisting like a hissing cat. Out of his mouth came a horrible sound that a threatened animal might make, one that was so obviously not human that Bulma had no further doubts about his alien blood. Terrified, she scrambled away from the separating bars and dove to her cot, covering herself with the blanket as though it might protect her. Her blue eyes darted from Zarbon to Vegeta, watching the exchange the way one might watch a train wreck.

Zarbon's lips curled in disgust, and Vegeta made that sound again. It was indescribable, almost like a mix between a bear and a small tyrannosaurus, but not quite. Clearly not pleased with it, Zarbon stalked to him and struck him in the face, snarling, "My return trip has been delayed enough because of you. I don't have time for your foolish nonsense."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed with hatred, and he didn't bother to wipe the blood from his mouth. He hissed, and while the sound didn't seem to faze Zarbon, Bulma flinched.

Zarbon tsked disdainfully. "You've been here too long, boy. Being in prison gives a man time to hope…but then, I suppose that is merely another form of punishment."

He then revealed a small silver rod that he'd brought in, about the size of a five pound dumbbell, and pointed it at Vegeta. The collar beeped in acknowledgement, and there was a bright flash of light. When her vision cleared, Bulma saw that a line of energy had curled around Vegeta's wrists like cuffs, and the other end attached to the pole as though it were a chain.

As Zarbon dragged him out, the prince writhed and struggled like a captured beast, his howls sometimes comprised of words in that same, strange language, and sometimes completely incoherent. Bulma called to him in their new silent way, asking where he was being taken, but received no reply.

She heard his cries long after Zarbon slammed the door.

Many hours later, Bulma had drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams plagued with blood and gore. She woke up screaming twice, an each time, she was too exhausted to stay awake as she wished. She was roused a third time when the door opened, and Zarbon threw Vegeta into the cell with much more force than necessary. The prince's body flew through the air limply, and the metal bars shuddered as he crashed into them. He groaned and shifted stiffly, then lay still. Zarbon sneered and shut the door again.

Bulma, who had bolted upright and frozen upon their arrival, slowly turned to the prince. She swallowed nervously and rose from her cot, the blanket falling from around her shoulders, and crept over to him. She sat on her knees beside the bars and swallowed again, and hesitantly reached through the bars to touch him. Before she could, he moaned again and rolled onto his side with his back to her, and she jerked her hand back.

"Klei diesu…I'll kill them," he whispered. "They'll pay…I am _legendary_…"

She reached out to touch him comfortingly again, but when her fingertips met his shoulder, his body shuddered, and curled into a tight little ball.

Bulma did not touch him again.

_Now I am mute despite myself  
>All of them are gone…<br>The silence overtakes me, the idle words forsake me  
>And I am left to face me…<br>I'm held…accountable…  
>For every idle word…curse the idle words!<em>

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><p><strong>This, I feel, is an even greater improvement from the original revised one…if that makes sense. Third person will help this story out a lot, I think. Hope you like it!<strong>

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	2. A Twelve Year Old's Cloak

**A/N: Oh God I HATED THIS CHAPTER. It sucked so bad. Oh, ick. **

**Sigh. Revising this is going to be painstaking, I tell you. Well, here is my second shot at chapter 2. I hope it's a lot better. **

**Disclaimer: Still not Japanese.**

**Song Prompt: Home ~ Three Days Grace**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: A Twelve Year Old's Cloak<strong>

Vegeta sat up, groaning as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Nngh, my head," he moaned.

I reached through the bars and took his hand. _Are you okay?_ I asked.

He stared at my hand on his before he yanked it away. "Why shouldn't I be?" he snarled.

My face crumbled. _Zarbon came in and took you away…you were gone for hours. _

He blinked, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. He hissed like a cat and jumped to his feet, backing away from me as though I had a disease. His back collided with the wall, and he slid down to the floor. He let out a wordless scream of rage and yelled something in a language I didn't recognize, and his dark eyes shrank until they were almost completely white. He thrashed, as though he was struggling with someone, and the heavy thuds his body made against the metal were sickeningly loud.

I found myself suddenly terrified of him. I couldn't imagine what must have happened to him to cause such a violent reaction, when he was so cool and collected earlier. Light flickered off his fingers before it died, again and again as his collar beeped rapidly; I stared in awe, realizing that he was just like _them_. He was just like those people who destroyed my home.

And yet, at the same time, he was different, because he was just as much a victim as me, if not more so. He might be strong like them, he might have great powers like them, but he has suffered, and more than I.

_Vegeta,_ I said softly. He ignored me, or couldn't hear me over the sounds of his tantrum, so I said louder, _Vegeta!_

Still, I got no response from him. He continued to curse in his native language, or what I assume to be curses in his native language, and every so often his yelling would devolve into wordless cries of both terror and fury.

I bit my lip, telling myself that this was for the best...

I _really_ hoped this wouldn't hurt.

_VEGETA!_ I screamed.

He cried out, clutching his head. "Stop it!" he yelled, now in Standard. "Leave me alone! Don't touch me!"

_At least I got a reaction, _I thought dryly to myself. _Vegeta…_I said, quietly this time. _Nobody's trying to hurt you. It's just us in here, remember? I'm Bulma._

He stopped thrashing and laid on the floor in a heap, then peered at me from behind the arm that shielded his face. He studied me, then blinked, and I knew he recognized me.

_Are you okay? _I asked gently.

"I hate them," he rasped. "I hate them all. They don't deserve to have their filthy hands on me. I hate them."

I was quiet, and he snarled, "They killed my mother and my father…do they think I'm too stupid to know who did it?" His voice wavered, and he coughed, spitting out bloody phlegm before he growled, "How dare they touch me."

I didn't know what to say, so I settled for, _I'm sorry. _

"Shut up," he snapped. He pushed himself into a sitting position and glared at me. "I'm getting out of here," he stated, his voice getting stronger. "I'm going to train as hard as I can, collar be damned. In maybe two years I will be up to my original strength even with the blasted thing. And with it off…" he paused, and the look in his eyes was so dark and murderous that for a moment he looked like Satan himself. He looked at me then, and his glare changed into something fiery and determined. "_You_," he said, "are going to train with me. If I think for one second you're slowing me down while I'm escaping, I'll dump you on your ass and blow this place sky high."

I felt hope spark in me, and because he was my only hope, I decided to trust him. Even so, especially when he started doing katas in swift, deadly strikes that were too fast for me to even see, I felt a strange fear grip me and settle in my heart.

* * *

><p>We've been here roughly a year now. I'm twelve, or so I've guessed. Bulma, in that case, should be eleven. Since we met, I discovered that she is possibly the most pestering, talkative brat I've ever met, which is quite impressive for a mute. Once she discovered that the "brown thing" around my waist was not a belt, she spent ages going on and on about how adorable it was, and "gee, can I pet it?" until I told her that if she didn't hush I'd blast her right there. She made sure to remind me that I had a collar on, to which I replied that I could still snap her neck if she got close enough. I was dismayed to find that she called my bluff.<p>

I glanced at her – up – and noticed her sloppy technique – down – I barked at her to straighten her leg out all the way when she kicked, and – up – stop putting her thumb under her fingers when she punched unless – down – she wanted it broken, and for God's sake would you put some power into your strikes?

_Would you shut up? _she snapped at me. _I'm new at this!_

"Bullshit," I said, giving her a look as I stopped my push-ups. "You've been at it nearly a year, every day. Can't you get something so simple?"

_I'm an out-of-shape kid, give me a break, _she scowled, stopping her kata and folding her arms.

I refused to admit it, but she'd actually progressed very well. When she started, she was the weakest thing I'd ever seen with barely a power level of 5. Now, at least, I reckoned she had a power level of perhaps 30, and given her race, stature, and gender, that seemed fairly decent. Of course, she has _me_ to think for that, what with my intense training regime and all.

"Get going, and move faster, Girl," I said. "Lift your arms over the peak of your head, not above your forehead. And straighten your hands when you attack...jeez, do you want to break your fingers or your opponents neck? That's better."

She's begun to call me her friend. _Friend. _Puh. How pointless. I for one have no need of a friend, and if she didn't strike me as so interestingly odd, I wouldn't even talk to her, stupid girl. As if I need to know that her favorite color is the same as mine – blue – or if her favorite food is some weird thing called strawberry, or she prefers Alternate to Pop like her cousin, whatever the hell that means.

And jeez, how she hammers me with questions. What's my favorite food, what do I do for fun, why do I have a tail in the first place, how come my hair is so funny (brat!) what the hell am I wearing, what's my favorite game – God, could she shut up for a half second?

And she's such a complainer! I get it, these cots feel like shit. I sleep on them too. I know, the toilets are disgusting and _no_, I am _not_ planning on watching you use it, what the hell do I look like? And for God's sake I _know_ it's cold so just use your damned blanket and shut up, and cripes, you bratty thing, _I do not care if it smells funny_!

She's shorter than me, although more so lately. I should hit my first spurt of growth soon; yet another thing I had to explain to her. Her race is so odd, growing all the time instead of all at once. Saiyans grow throughout the years as well, no doubt, but the majority of our growth happens before puberty – about age 14, I suppose – and there is a final growth spurt that happens around age 18. During either of these we can grow up to at least a foot and a half. But growing constantly like she does seems so unconventional. Two growth spurts are painful enough, from what I've heard.

She insists that we'll be the same height once grown, but I told her not to get her hopes up because my father was a monster of a man and I'll surely grow to be tall as he was.

Tiring of minor workouts, I began my kata. I did my best to focus on my own training instead of correcting hers – and good Lord, there's so much to correct – so I could get stronger on schedule. I felt like I was growing in strength, but until I fought someone I wouldn't be able to tell.

I can't judge by fighting against Frieza. He never makes a comment about my resistance being greater, and until he does I will assume that I have an incredibly long way to go.

I stopped my kata, hearing footsteps. I backed myself into my usual corner by the barred wall that separates me and the girl and fell into a cross-legged position; this has been our signal for a long time. She caught it and sat too, pretending to be bored out of her mind.

Zarbon came in, loud and obnoxious as he always is. I glanced at the girl and saw her pale at the sight of him; the stupid creature fears him more than she does me.

"Hello, little whore," he sneered at her. I bristled, and he turned his attention to me, scowling. "Move it. You know the drill."

"Screw you," I said, spitting at him.

Zarbon growled, wiping the saliva from his cheek. Bulma, I noted through the link, feels impressed at my spitting distance; I've been practicing.

"You only wish it was me, monkey boy," he glowered at me. "At least I wouldn't nearly tear your spine out if I did you. Now get up. Don't make me drag you."

Bulma looked away; when she was younger, she never understood what was happening to me when I left the cell, but Zarbon's crude comments soon educated her. I'd never felt so ashamed as when she finally figured it out.

I snarled, "I'd much rather be dragged on the floor like a common dog than go to that lizard willingly."

Zarbon slapped me so hard that I went flying in to the barred wall. The Girl shrieked, or made an attempt to, and cried, _Vegeta!_

Her voice felt so real in my head that I slipped up, and said, "Shut up, Girl."

Zarbon looked at us both curiously, then grinned suddenly. "Oh, so you made a bond with that little girl? Interesting. Frieza would love to know about that."

"You wouldn't dare," I hissed angrily.

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'll tell him you fucked her."

Zarbon paled, and Bulma looked disgusted. "What makes you think he'll believe you?" he snapped.

I gave him a malicious smirk. "Well now, I suppose Frieza would believe a tattletale brat like me over a smooth talker, don't you think? After all, smooth talkers make such great, well-known liars – "

"Just get up and move it."

"Make me."

Bulma started to send me a panicked warning, but Zarbon had already connected the energy leash and shocked me with it. I yelled, and when he finally stopped, my clothes were singed and smoking.

"How's that, monkey?" Zarbon snapped, cuffing my wrists while I was down. "I don't know why Frieza always send me to get you anyway. I'm not some common slave to fetch his whores! So don't provoke me into doing something I won't regret."

He started to drag me out of the room, but something caught, and for a second I stopped moving. I looked down to see the girl practically smashing herself against the bars, her fingers clutching my cape for dear life. She made a face that showed she was struggling, and the weak little thing even managed to pull me back a few inches.

I stared at her blankly, and she looked back at me. In the whole time she'd been stuck in here with me, I'd never seen her blue eyes look so fiery and determined. I blinked, then snapped, "What are you doing, you stupid girl?"

"Yes, what are you doing, exactly?" Zarbon asked, amused. "Because it seems to me that you're trying to tear your arms off, but that wouldn't be very logical, now would it?"

She mouthed hateful curses at him, but they rang loud and clear for me.

Zarbon laughed haughtily. "How cute. She must have a crush on the little Prince." He snickered at her, tsked, then said, "That's too bad, kid, really." With that, he yanked on my collar so hard that it choked me, and I heard my cloak rip.

I looked at her one more time before the door slammed shut. She was crying into a large piece of red fabric.

* * *

><p>When Zarbon returned with Vegeta, the Prince was unconscious. The lizard threw him into the cell carelessly, but it was close enough to the bars for me to get a hold of his cape again and pull him closer. I checked for any injuries, as I often tried to do when he was semi-conscious and failed, and I saw nothing terrible except a few deep scratches that were already healing.<p>

I sighed biting my lip, and smoothed his hair. He'd never let me do it when he was awake, and I hated to act like a stalker and feel it while he was sleeping but goddammit, he's fluffy, okay?

I looked him over carefully, as I normally can't do without him noticing. He's handsome, with naturally bronzed skin and thick black hair that stood up like a flame, and bangs hanging over his slightly slanted onyx eyes. He had a very mature face for his age, with prominent cheek bones and a straight nose, although his face was still round with youth. I knew that on Chikyuu, he'd probably be considered a bit strange looking, especially with that hair, but I kind of liked it.

I fell asleep sometime after that, leaning against the bars. I'd have a hell of a cramp when I woke up.

When I opened my eyes who knows how many hours later, Vegeta was staring at me. I yelped silently, jumping away from him in surprise. He didn't look amused in the slightest. Actually, he looked rather angry.

"Are you insane?" he hissed. "What were you thinking, pulling on my cloak like that? He could have killed you! You realize he could have done away with you with a flick of his pinky finger? That's how dangerous he is! Even without this blasted collar he is far stronger than me right now! I can't protect you from him, do you understand? Don't you ever do that again! I cannot believe…you would just…" he trailed off when he saw me starting to cry again. I looked away from his piercing gaze to pick up the piece of his cloak I'd torn off, which I'd dropped upon falling asleep, and gripped it so hard that I thought my palms would bleed.

He looked confused and hesitant. "What are you crying about, girl?"

_I didn't want them to take you again, okay? Jeez, why is it so hard for you to get that you're the only friend I have left? _I wailed.

He frowned at me. "Stupid girl…what could you have done, anyhow?"

It was a rhetorical question, but I snapped, _What was I supposed to do, just sit there and watch? That's not right! And goddammit, it's not fair! Why can't he pick on some other prince, huh? You can't be the only good looking one! _

I wouldn't wish Vegeta's suffering on my worst enemy, honest I wouldn't, but I'd take his place myself if it meant the torment would stop. It gets so lonely in here without him…

He sighed. "Frieza's a sick monster, Girl. He doesn't want anyone else, is all. He could have anyone, if he wanted. I don't know why he wants me."

I rolled my eyes at this. I swear…how come some cute boys think they're so hot and some just think they're average or worse? Men, so oblivious.

"Frieza always gets what he wants," Vegeta continued. "And he'll keep getting anything he wants until someone stops him. That someone is going to be me."

_I just don't see why he has to want __you__,_ I said. _He should mess with Zarbon or something. He's kinda cute for an blue alien, I guess._

Vegeta scowled. "You haven't seen his true form. Ugly as hell. And Zarbon's been used too many times."

_I don't even want to know how you know that._

He chuckled. "Foolish girl. Gossip spreads around here faster than it does among old ladies."

I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. _So does that make you a gossipy princess?_

He scowled at me fiercely.

I chuckled, then sighed. _This is going to sound weird, but I really hope Frieza likes me. _

Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously, so I hastily elaborated, _Zarbon told me I'd get sent to a harem if Frieza tired of me. _

He scowled. "Let's just say you don't want to meet Frieza, and leave it at that. You're screwed either way."

I sighed. _I'm surprised he hasn't come for me already…he didn't seem like a patient guy. _

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Stupid girl. He's waiting until you get boobs."

I blushed. _Vegeta!_

"What? That's the truth, isn't it?"

I pursed my lips; it was, but that didn't mean I'd condone it, or talking about it, and I promptly told him so.

He replied, "The fact that I am taken advantage of has nothing to do with my taste in females."

I tried to smack him, but I missed. _You'd better keep your hands to yourself, _I said. _I'm not old enough to be that desperate._

He smirked. "Really? I distinctly remember you saying I was good looking, just a minute ago"

I scowled. I'd been in the middle of a rant, so I'd hoped he wouldn't notice. He did, obviously; he notices everything. It drives me crazy.

I snapped, _Do you have to be such a –_

"Devil? Yes, actually, I do. I'm afraid it's far too late for me to be anything else."

_I can't believe you're the only thing I have for company._

His teasing expression slipped from his face, and he said sternly, "You should be pleased it's only me. Anyone else in this blasted empire would be far more crude than I."

* * *

><p>She nearly gave me a heart attack.<p>

What the hell was she thinking, trying to stop Zarbon like that? Jeez, if Frieza knew she liked me…

Frieza is a skilled manipulator. Once he brought her topside and found out that she enjoyed my company (for reasons beyond me), he'd use me to bend her to his will constantly. He'd have her wrapped around his pinkie finger. She'd be completely helpless.

Good thing I'm also good at blackmail, or Zarbon would have told Frieza for sure. I don't doubt the girl could put up a good act to follow up my lie, either. Screaming bloody murder at Zarbon's ugly face couldn't possibly be that hard, mute or not.

Stupid girl, making me like her.

I've told her of my previous doings, of purging planets and things, and she feared me for a great while, but eventually the idiot just started chatting my ear off again, asking where I'd been and how many aliens I've seen and what languages do I know…she is far too curious for her own safety. But there was something that bothered me about that…perhaps it was the fact that I was pleased that she didn't shun me despite her so-called "morals".

That fearlessness might get her killed one day, but then, my own has brought me this far.

It severely bothered me that she'd be concerned about my wellbeing. No one has cared what happened to me since the death of my planet. I don't see why she got so worked up anyway. It's not like I should be worth anything to her. She says it would have been wrong to just watch them take me, but as I may have mentioned, those prissy little morals won't get her far here.

I liked making her squirm. It was endlessly amusing to me. She sets herself up for it, if you ask me. If she'd keep her mouth shut, it wouldn't be such a problem to her. That brat has some nerve, calling me handsome. Puh! As if I need her petty compliments. She should learn to mind her own business.

I just can't understand why it matters to her. She's not being harmed personality, so she shouldn't care.

She was quiet. I figured she was still mad that I'd caught her off guard so easily. I personally found it positively hysterical, but then, the female species has always been an enigma to me. Still, I was surprised by her lack of response.

"Girl?" I asked.

_Yeah?_

I almost asked her why she tried to help me, but then she'd probably start rambling about ethics I no longer possess and most likely would start calling me her 'friend' again. Yuck. Well, something else, for whatever stupid reason, has always bothered me…

"Why don't you ever talk?" I asked this because I knew she clearly had spoken before, or she wouldn't be mouthing words all the time before she remembered that her voice was gone.

She looked taken aback at first, but then she shrugged and said, _I don't know. I haven't spoken a word since my parents died._

"Yes, I know, but you don't seem to be in that bad of a shock."

She looked away. _I just…I don't know. I try not to think about it. I just remember I was completely speechless when I saw them go down, and I haven't uttered a sound since._

I'd never seen someone have such a response to a death; normally, in my experience, the death of a loved one resulted in screaming and shrieking and crying, not muteness.

"Do you miss it?" I asked curiously.

_Of course I miss them. They were my par –_

"I meant speaking. Hearing your own voice."

_I barely even remember what my voice sounds like, _she said bitterly. _If anything, it probably still sounds like a little kid since I haven't used it._

I cocked my head and thought for a moment before I said, "Do you want me to mature it for you?"

She looked at me sharply. _What are you talking about?_

I shrugged. She tried to help me, and I don't like debts. "I can use my Ki to expand your vocal cords and mature your voice. You won't start talking again till you're ready, but if I filter my Ki into your voice every so often it'll keep up with the rest of you."

For a moment, she actually looked happy. _Really? Could you? _

I snorted. "Did I stutter? That's what I said, isn't it?"

She ignored my sarcasm. _Can you do it right now?_

I nodded. "Come here."

She obeyed, and sat as close to the bars as she could. I reached through the metal cylinders and touched her throat; I have to concentrate to channel what little Ki the collar leaves me with into her, and to my dismay, I actually have to push my energy to get it out from underneath my boiling skin.

She gasped when she feel the healing Ki; it was probably the first time she had felt energy at all; and the first sensation is always the best, although I've nearly forgotten the memory of my first summoning of Ki.

I removed my hand, figuring that was enough, and she touched the spot that my fingertips had been seconds ago with a look of wonder on her face. She opened her mouth and tried to say my name, but no sound came out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So yeah, this chapter was more difficult than the first one, as I'm sure the following chapters will be more difficult to edit than this one. I hope you guys like the changes, or if you hadn't read it before, I hope you like the story in general. **

**On a side note, I am again super sorry for that enormous time skip. Life in prison, as you can imagine, is greatly boring; actually, the only reason this scene in particular was here was because this is the first time that Vegeta actually acknowledges that he likes her, when beforehand she'd just been an annoying brat. I hope I gave at least a decent peak into his past impression of her. **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	3. That Tiny Little Change

**A/N: Well, this one wasn't **_**too**_** horrible to re-write. Although that might be because I skimmed the old chapter and recalled what happened instead of actually reading it. I like this much better, though. **

**So yes, my decision to stay completely third person is final. I think it's much easier to write, and much easier to get the feels from. If you read the revised chapters 1 and 2, I recommend doing so again because of the tense change. If you don't really care, then please, carry on. Also, instead of using Basque again, I am going to make up my own Saiyago language. It will be completely random and it will make no sense, so do not try to decipher it. I don't have a single clue what he's saying. **

**So yeah. Let's do this. Enjoy ^^**

**Disclaimer: I clearly own nothing, because if I did then (A) GT would have never been a thing, and (B) I am not super famous and rich because of the beautiful awesomeness that is Dragon Ball Z. **

**Song Prompt: Anywhere But Here ~ Safety Suit.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: That Tiny Little Change<strong>

_Is this a natural feeling?_

_Or is it just me bleeding all my thoughts and dreams_

_In hopes that you will be with me?_

They've taken him again.

It was for this reason that she sat close to the bars that usually separated them, her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. The cell seemed especially dark without him there, the sounds more noticeable and cold drafts present when there weren't any. The absence of a single presence made it appear as though a million more were now existent.

And she hated Frieza for that. She hated how he kept Vegeta locked here, only to bring him out for his sick pleasure. She hated how Vegeta was when he returned, how he murmured to himself in his haze of unconsciousness and flinched at the lingering feeling of the lizard's slimy touch. She hated how she saw his mind slipping a little more each time.

She hates the bruises that liter his skin.

When he returned this time, there would be a large one on his stomach, and his ribcage, where Zarbon had kneed him for his insolence. There would be one on his jaw, where the rude lackey punched him. There would be terrible, dark purple ones around his wrist, where the cuffs dug into his skin and left scars, and others still that would be left unexplained.

The young scientific prodigy in her wondered about his power level now. According to him, Saiyans got stronger with every beating they received. If that was the case, his previous level of 2000 should have risen significantly since his capture. What she wouldn't give to get some tools and try her hand at that collar. His freedom from it would no doubt ensure their freedom, if only to get out of this blasted prison.

Part of her feared that he'd leave her once they escaped. Where would she go? Surely he had some escape route, some distant planet outside of the Planet Trade Organization's reach. But would he take her with him? Would she be able to survive there, wherever they went?

She hoped that he was as strong as he believed. She hadn't seen him fight anyone but Zarbon, who was apparently extremely strong, so she couldn't say. His muscles were tight and lean and compact, but he was thin from a lack of food. They didn't give Saiyan-sized portions here, he said, which led her to wonder how much Saiyans really needed to eat. But, besides that, he was nearly as thin as she was, and if he were to stop training, he'd be thin as a rail. That frightened her, and she hated that too.

But he was smart. It was uncommon, she'd realized, for her to find a child with her same level of intellect, especially when she was so young. On Earth, Bulma had found that most girls of the age of 10 were merely concerned with dolls or dresses, or in other cases, sports, and if she remembered anything about 6th graders, it was that _they_ were only concerned with boys. And the boys her age had still been convinced that girls had cooties, which, still to this day, was the most absurd thing that Bulma had ever heard. But _Vegeta_…now Vegeta, he was smart.

His mind was like a woven network of plans and strategies, like strings tied to both the choice made and the outcome it would produce. His ability to predict the behaviors of others was astounding. Any time the prisoners were taken out to bathe, a fight would break out, and Vegeta always knew who would win the miniature battle. His eyes would sweep over others in the most condescending manner possible, all the while analyzing and calculating. What she wouldn't give to be able to see how his brain worked, to see what made him tick.

Nearly every day, he would teach her, showing her how to wiggle her way out of sticky situations, describing the special abilities of strong foes, and instructing her on how to use her size to her advantage. Strength was clearly not her strong suit, he'd say, so size and speed would be her only advantages.

The boy, to put it plainly, was a genius. And it was sad that he was losing his sanity.

Her problem now, however, at this given moment, had nothing to do with him. Her issue now, was that, at 12, she'd finally 'become a young woman'. Her sudden spring of puberty was both surprising and cruel. Part of her had been irrationally hoping that, because her life sucked so much, she'd at least be spared the pain of a menstrual cycle, but fate had not been so kind as to indulge her. It was fortunate that her mother had been as early of a 'bloomer' as Bulma had been late, so female issues had been explained to her nearly a year before the destruction of her planet. Otherwise, she was certain that she'd have thought it was an aneurism of some sort, and that wouldn't have been pleasant in the slightest.

Another issue, particularly relevant to the last problem, was the fact that she had access to no feminine products. This, unfortunately, meant that pieces of her shirt would have to suffice. When she was done tearing it up, what was left of it was just enough to cover her chest, but it left her stomach and the lower half of her ribcage exposed. Though her abdomen was nicely muscled, she looked pale and sickly from the lack of proper vitamins that the sun and fresh air provided.

She rinsed the strips of cloth in the motion activated toilet (it disgusted her to use it, but it would be just as nasty to use toilet paper that was sitting in this dust infested place) by cleaning them of dust when the water shot up, and she rinsed her pants and underwear the best she could in the same manner. Luckily, her old jeans were dark, so you couldn't see the stain.

Also luckily, she finished before Vegeta's return, and was decently clean by time Zarbon cast him into his cell. Vegeta, however, looked filthy, his clothes torn and bloodied, his face a terrible mix of paleness and dark, purple bruises. He lay on his side, murmuring brokenly in his native language before he drifted into slumber. Bulma started to reach for his cloak to pull him closer, but refrained from it, fearful that she might tear it again.

…

"_If you want me, you'll have to come and drag me out of here. I'd rather die before I go to that bastard willingly." _

_Zarbon snarled. "Goddamn, I can't stand you." _

_She had begged him, over and over again, not to make it so hard on himself. She had begged him to stop calling Zarbon ugly names, begged him to stop provoking the Elite. He refused to heed her warnings, finding her worries inconsequential. His pride wouldn't let him lie down and take a single blow, a single insult. And how she admired him for that, or how she would, if only it proved effective. If only it would make the blows stop aching and the cuts stop bleeding, and the scars stop forming on his skin. _

"_I'm not particularly fond of you either," Vegeta said disdainfully, lifting his chin. "So I believe it's in our best interest if you just stopped coming."_

_A snake-like hiss passed through Zarbon's lips, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed. "We both know that's not possible, and believe me, I'd like to not be here as much as you. Can't you save me the hassle just one time, you stupid monkey?" _

"'_Fraid not, lizard face." _

_Bulma's mental warning touched his mind too late, and Zarbon punched Vegeta's cheek. A fight ensued, which Vegeta was clearly loosing. Abrupt cries of pain only escaped him a few times, and Zarbon looked as if he was about to triumph when Vegeta suddenly turned and spat in the green-haired man's face. _

_Zarbon screamed and reared back, his hands flying to his left eye. Vegeta's grin grew large and maniacal, his crazed laughter ringing loudly in the cell. The mixture of screams and laughs was terrible, frightening, and sent chills up Bulma's spine. _

_"Isn't it amazing?!" Vegeta shrieked gleefully. "Isn't it just fucking great?!" _

_"What did you do to my face?!" Zarbon squealed. _

_"Acid spit! Acid fucking spit!" _

_"Explain yourself before I take off your head!" _

_"HA! The things I can make when I'm bored! Oh, it's just genius, it's perfect -" _

_"You _burned_ my _face_!" _

_"Damn right I did!"_

_Zarbon screamed in rage and pain, and when he drew his hands away from his face, the skin of his cheek and brow had all but been burned away. The muscle and flesh that was left was blackened and melting, charring and flaking. The stark white bone of his cheek and brow shone through the flabs of skin, and blood gushed out and poured down his neck. Only his scouter had saved his eye from being completely eroded away, although the skin around it still sizzled with tiny acerbic bubbles. The sight was horrific, and would haunt Bulma for days. _

_Zarbon sent for Dedoria, and after the both of them beat Vegeta half to death, Zarbon went to receive medical attention from a healing tank, which would make the wound fade into nothing but a hardly noticeable scar beneath his eye. Dedoria would put Vegeta in a healing tank so Frieza wouldn't receive him in such a condition, but the bruises he came back with were just as ugly, if not darker. _

_His return was filled with hisses and fitful cries and horrible curses in languages she still can't understand. His tail was stiff, the fur ruffled and standing on end, and his back arched like he was trying to escape from the pain. He murmured softly in what she'll learn to be Saiyago, in quiet whispers of what used to be a loving child and brother. _

_But he'll never talk about them, not his family. Not for more than a minute. Not more than a sentence. _

_If she talks about hers, she cries. He does not wish to show that same weakness. _

_..._

The pods have become faster, she's been told. Vegeta's trips to and from the prison became shorter. This meant less time away from her, which she liked. It also meant that he wouldn't be at the brink of unconsciousness for a while yet. It also meant that he was terrifying.

"Mune tereka," he mumbled. "Dosuke quinte tekoda…KYSHIERDE, NENDEN CREOTAM INÉT!"

And he would thrash, screaming words that became more incoherent the longer he shouted. Sometimes he seemed feverish, and when she would question him about it later, he'd say that overheating was often a sigh of an oncoming growth spurt. Saiyans began to grow very fast around his age, and that would briefly lower his ability to fight off pathogens.

But sometimes he was just dreaming, and his hot, sweaty brow was unrelated to growing entirely.

When he woke up, he smelled blood that was not his own, and so he immediately presumed that it was coming from the only other person in the cell. Even though Bulma didn't appear to be in terrible pain, he momentarily panicked, which he would be terribly embarrassed by later.

"Why are you bleeding?!" he yelled, so loudly that he startled her out of her half-asleep state. "Who hurt you?!"

_Nobody!_ she squeaked, her heart rate still high. _Jeez, will you calm down? There are more comfortable ways to wake a girl up, you know!_

"I smell blood," he insisted, only slightly calmer.

Her face turned beet red, and she mentally mumbled something quietly.

"What?"

A weary sigh floated from her throat, and she tried louder, _I got my period. _

He blinked. "Period?"

_It's…it's a state of puberty for a girl, that's all. _

He frowned, unsure as to why this would cause bleeding. "Do you mean you're…" he paused, his cheeks heating. "You mean your breasts grow?"

She wanted to slap her forehead, but refrained from it, because it wasn't his fault he didn't understand. The kid was only 13, still figuring out the changes of his own body, and completely unaware of the difference puberty brought on in a female. So, naturally (unfortunately) she'd have to explain it to him.

So, she started out with the fact that a young female's body would begin to cleanse itself periodically in order to prepare for the child it would one day carry. He wrinkled his nose slightly, but didn't seem too terribly disgusted, as the process made logical sense. She then explained that, for a girl, puberty occurred anywhere from 9 years to 12 years of age, and in certain cases, sometimes later. He was unsurprised by this as well, although he found it odd that humans began this aging cycle before 14.

Of course, he then questioned _where _she was bleeding, because he could see no blood on her stomach, which seemed, to him, the logical place that would need to be cleansed for a child. Here, Bulma turned beet red again, and by time she finished explaining that little bit of information, he looked rather green, and even went so far as to back away from her to what he deemed a safe distance.

_It's not going to get all over you,_ she snapped, irritable. _I don't have a disease, you know. _

"Better safe than sorry," he retorted. "How long is this period thing supposed to last?"

_Four to five days, six at most, I guess. It happens once every month. _

His nose wrinkled again, heavily this time. "Every month?"

_Mmmhmm._

"I'm glad I'm a boy, I'll tell you that," he muttered. He stopped then, horrified at what just came out of his mouth.

Bulma stared at him for a moment, then started to giggle. His voice had cracked on the word 'that', and very obviously too. His pre-pubescent voice had been rough and scratchy, and now it was trying to deepen, which clearly made for an odd combination of squeaky, scruffy words.

"It's not funny," he barked, but her shoulders continued to shake with silent laughter.

_It's totally funny, _she tittered, finding herself terribly amused.

He sulked in his own crabby way, which of course involved training. For once, (and this would be the last time, he swore) he let her rest to deal with her cramps, and trained by his lonesome. Bulma started to doze again, and the only sound that filled the cell was that of his heavy breathing and soft grunts that followed swift attacks. After a moment, he stopped, thinking, and he asked, "Little One?"

_Hmm?_

"What happens on bath day?"

Bulma sat up quickly, horrified. _Oh no…do you remember seeing women taken out of the bath to be hosed down?_

He frowned. "Yeah…oh. Shit."

_Those hoses are for girls with periods. They don't look very gentle…_

"It's a lot of pressure," he muttered, "It's probably a little heavy for most warriors, but you…you're small, girl."

_I know, _she said, biting her lip. _It's going to hurt, a lot._ She paused, fearful. _What do I do? _

Vegeta was silent for a moment. He pressed his lips together and exhaled, then quietly slipped back into his kata. "I'll think of something," he murmured.

* * *

><p>She was nervous, and he could feel her fear radiating off her in waves. Her ki was shaking and unstable, jumpy. Any sudden movement startled her, and the irritable prisoners startled her often. Each man and woman held in the dungeon on the moon was brought out of their cells and shuffled down the hallway like a herd of sheep, and hundreds of pairs of eyes roamed desperately, calculatingly, and determinedly over the hallway, looking for any possible means of escape.<p>

"Calm down," Vegeta whispered to her as they walked. "You'll attract unwanted attention."

She frowned a little, her shoulders hunched. _I thought nobody can sense anything about me without a scouter…_

"Maybe not, but it doesn't take a Ki-sensing ability to feel your fear."

Bulma shuffled her feet as she walked, and a guard nudged her a bit. It wasn't a harsh shove, but because she was so small, she still stumbled. Vegeta growled deeply at her attacker, who in turn glared and pushed him with much more force.

_Can you sense Ki? _she asked after a moment. She'd never thought to ask, and it never seemed like he could sense someone coming without using his normal senses, but as of late, he'd been commenting on her Ki every so often, and it made her curious.

Vegeta frowned, his brows knitted and his mouth set. His cheeks seemed to darken, and because he was uncomfortable with voicing such a thing, he mentally muttered, _Only yours. _

Bulma blinked, finding this odd. _ Mine?_

_You're the only one I've been around constantly for two years, _he said curtly, as if to make nothing of it. _It makes sense that I'd eventually begin to feel your Ki separately from others. _

Bulma looked at him briefly, then lowered her chin, somewhat embarrassed. Through their mental link, it felt as though he was lying, but he would be angry with her if she called him out on it, and as of right now, that was the last thing she needed. She was already scared stiff. _Well, maybe one day you'll be able to separate other Ki's too. _

"Maybe," he muttered, sounding slightly unconvinced.

Once they arrived to the bathing area (which, to Bulma, looked like a rather unsanitary public pool), the guards gave a roll count, and the prisoners were told to strip and put their clothes in the rinser (which resembled a giant washing machine). Vegeta turned his back to as many people as possible, taking his teal and silver medallion out of its hiding place under his shirt before he tucked it into the small pocket of his pants. Bulma peeled off her clothes miserably, and the moment the guards took note of the reddened strips of cloth in her pants, she was grabbed and pushed towards the other women in their menstrual cycles. Most were grown; the youngest appeared to be in her mid-twenties, and each of them were clearly strong and well-muscled, despite being a bit pale and sickly from their time in prison.

Bulma shrank back, as close to the wall as possible, feeling extremely self-conscious about her body, for multiple reasons. The 'late bloomer' in her applied to all aspects of womanhood, but many men here wouldn't care. If that wasn't enough to make her cringe, then her onslaught of hormones certainly was.

_Vegeta…_she nearly whimpered pitifully. She felt his eyes on her, more scanning than observing, but he gave her no verbal (or mental) reply.

"Hoses ready," a guard called.

A few of the weaker women braced themselves to face the water pressure, but Bulma crossed her arms over her middle, knowing full well that the water could bruise her organs.

"Pressure: 50 units. Rotation: 5 degrees per minute."

"Set."

"Go."

The hose turned on, and water gushed out. The strongest of women winced in slight discomfort, and the weakest of them cried out once, then bit their lips and endured the pain.

Bulma screamed.

The guards cared little if she was hurt. A prisoner was not their concerned, especially a skinny girl like her. Had they known why she was kept, it may have been different, but they did not, and so the steady pressure continued.

She was in tears by time the water passed over her and on down the line, bruises and welts forming on her body. A sob wracked her shoulders, but the sound came out like a hoarse cough.

_Stop it please stop it hurts make it stop please – _

Vegeta climbed out of the bath, water running down his back and legs, and dripping from his hair. Not seeing him, Bulma squeezed her eyes shut as the hose came near to her again, but when she did feel water, it was light and sprinkling.

She opened her eyes and saw Vegeta's back, and suddenly, being naked was much more embarrassing than it had been five minutes ago. His muscles flexed a bit from the force, but it was clear from his slightly relaxed stance that the water felt like nothing to him.

"Get back in the bath!" a guard yelled. Vegeta's black eyes drifted to him briefly, but quickly returned to a cruel stare-down with the hose's operator.

"You deaf, boy?" another yelled. Vegeta ignored them, and more yelling ensued, to which he remained silent. The soft spray of the water the bounced off and past him was enough to at least let her have a decent rinse, and that was all he cared about at the moment.

"Turn up the pressure," the first guard snapped, "and stop the rotation."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed to slits as the water came to a stop on him and the pressure rose. He shifted his feet so he wouldn't slip, and still remained sturdy and silent.

"Double it!"

Vegeta grunted at the pressure, and Bulma's fingers touched his back lightly, like encouragement.

"Oh for god's sake…triple!"

Vegeta gritted his teeth.

"Son of a…Quadruple the damned pressure, raise it until he gets the fuck out of the way!"

The operator cranked the pressure up higher and higher, until Vegeta started to be pushed back. His muscles hardened with the effort of staying in place, and eventually he had to raise his arms to lessen the pressure on his chest. Bulma pressed herself back against the wall as he slid closer, terrified that the added weight of his body and the high pressure would crush her. _Vegeta…! _

He squeezed his eyes shut and yelled as it pushed him back, flattening his palms against the wall behind him. His back pressed against her, and with a growl, he pushed himself away. Bracing his left arm with his right, he let the center of the stream hit his palm, and started walking forward. Much of the water diverted and hit his shoulders, but it was bearable until he got closer.

Oh, what he wouldn't give for a single blast of Ki.

But he didn't have Ki, so he forced himself closer, step by step, inch by inch. If he lost his footing even for a second, he'd be shoved back into the wall like a cannonball, straight into Bulma, and who knew if a skinny, weak thing like her could survive such a collision…

A snarl tore past gritted teeth, and, swiftly, his hand closed over the hose's nozzle. In a second, it was crushed, and the water built up so fast that the coil exploded like a water balloon. Water gushed from the hydrant like a geyser, shooting up to the ceiling and falling back down on the prisoners like rain. Many women smiled and laughed and twirled in it, reveling in the first gentle shower they'd had in a long time, and Bulma finally removed herself from the wall to bask in it, pride swelling in her chest.

_I can't believe he did that for me…_

Vegeta breathed heavily, and when he looked up at the gaping guards and operator, his eyes were like murderous black slivers of the doorway to hell. "Frieza's newest toy was in pain," he snapped, angry. "Turn the goddamn hose down, jackasses."

Many prisoners shouted and whistled, for the guards were not defied often, and no one had ever been so bold as to give them orders. No man had dared step foot onto the area meant for women, and no woman had ever complained about the conditions.

Vegeta had accidentally made history.

For once, bath time was cut short by nearly twenty minutes. No one cared, however, and each of them felt strangely liberated.

Bulma put her clothes back on quietly, passing small glances at Vegeta, who kept his head high and purposefully avoided her gaze. His pride and arrogance shone like a spotlight, so much so that he didn't even have to reveal it with glares and struggles as his energy cuffs were set in place. He had completed his defiant act of the day, and if it had been anyone other than him, he'd have been satisfied for the entire week.

As the prisoners were shuffled into the order of their cells and herded back behind bars, Bulma's eyes followed her feet, her fingers lacing and unlacing, and her shoulders hunched shyly. After a moment of gathering her nerves, she cleared her throat (entirely for show) and nudged him gently. _Thank you,_ she said, genuinely.

Vegeta glanced at her, his face partially hidden by bangs and the long hair that still spilled down his shoulders, then resumed glaring at the guard that led them. "Whatever."

Before they reached their cells, a guard received a call on his scouter. After ending said call, he gave orders to the guard that led their group, rattling off two cell numbers and two prisoner codes. When Vegeta was pushed into his cell, Bulma was pushed with him. Surprised, she collided with his back, letting out a silent shriek as they both lost their footing and fell in a heap of limbs.

"I have orders from Zarbon," the guard said as he tossed the blanket and pillow from Bulma's cot in, and for a split second, he grinned mockingly. "Apparently he wants the little whore there to smell like you, Vegeta. Won't Frieza like that?"

Vegeta growled and started to get to his feet, the energy cuffs on his wrists already fading, but the guard slammed the door shut before he could attack. With a snarl, Vegeta folded his arms in a huff, tapping his foot irritably. He said grumpily, "If you don't smell like me already, after two years, you're scent proof."

Bulma just smiled a little, not entirely displeased with the situation. If he'd let her, she'd hold him, even when his behavior bordered on insanity. If he'd let her, she'd comfort him properly. If he'd let her…

A lump rose in her throat, and she burst into tears of mixed emotions. Her sobs were heavy and uneven, tears gushing down her cheeks, her shoulders quaking. Bulma cried so hard that she nearly choked, and her want to scream and moan to express her misery burned at the back of her throat. Vegeta muttered a soft curse, and put a tentative hand on her shoulder, as though he was afraid she'd burn him. After another moment's hesitation, he got to his knees beside her and crushed her to his chest. Her tears quickly soaked through his shirt, her fingers digging into the material and her arms tight around his waist. She wasn't mindful of his tail, but for once, he didn't flinch.

"You're okay…" he said quietly. "We're okay."

They were not okay.

_You're beautiful inside_

_You're so lovely and I can't see why I'd do anything without you, you are_

_And when I'm not with you, I know that it's true_

_That I'd rather be anywhere but here without you..._

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>

**~KimiruMai**


	4. Just Your Strength Alone

**A/N: Reupload! For whatever stupid reason fanfiction somehow didn't show all the separation line thingies. Sigh.**

**You know when you hear this certain phrase and you're like, "OMG that would make the PERFECT title for this chapter/story!" but then you have no freaking clue what you're going to write about? Yeah, now's one of those times. I'm just winging it here, so sorry if this chapter isn't my best work but I just feel like I need to write something down for the sake of writing. I'm a nutcase, don't judge me. **

**Pallyndrome: Thank you! I try XD**

**FireStorm1991: Lol, jerkfaces indeed XD**

**Softy2011: Thank you!**

**KayuraK: Thanks! I couldn't find it ANYWHERE cuz I forgot to add it to my faves. Anyway, the concept of mine was a different, but the hose thing belongs to Tempestt, to whom by the way I apologize I couldn't find your profile to ask if I could borrow it. Yay, subcribers!**

**Sayiannetta: Thank you! I like the criss-cross too so I'm glad you picked that.**

**XDarkAngelOfLoveX: I started Free My Soul too and I'm waiting for an update XD.**

**WildVegeta: OMG thank you! I love making people speechless XD**

**Lilly Moonlight: Thank you! Hope this satisfies!**

**Buu: Thanks! I update pretty fast, so no worries!**

**Saiyanwarrior23: Thank you! Took me forever to think of a crisis. Lol you'd think I woulda thought of that first since I'm a girl XD**

**Gohanroxme: LOL, that anonymous login name was funny XD thank you!**

**Okay, I've got two votes for Criss Cross, and two votes for Third Person. **

**SO.**

**I'm going to do both. Some of it will be from Veggie's POV, some from Bulma's, and some from neither. I hope you guys are okay with that, and please tell me if you aren't. Still taking votes.**

**The title for this chapter is from the Flyleaf song 'Perfect'. It's really good and you should check it out if you haven't heard it before.**

**Disclaimer: Now, I know I'm a freaky good author with awesome updates, but seriously, do you have any idea how much moolah I'd have if I owned DBZ? I'd be set for life. Not quite there yet, since I'm 16…**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Just Your Strength Alone<strong>

My cousin used to listen to Breaking Benjamin a lot. He was 14 when he died with the rest of them, assuming no one else was taken captive.

One of his favorite songs was 'Had Enough'.

_You had to have it all_

_Well have you had enough?_

_You greedy little bastard you _

_Will get what you deserve._

You have no idea how many times I've played those lyrics in my head while I've been here.

I haven't heard music in two years. It's awful. Every so often the melodies of my favorite songs will pop into my head, and I hum them, or rather, I sing in my head. I don't even have to do it quietly, because they rarely come unless Vegeta is gone.

I sit up on my mutilated cot. Ugh, my body is still sore from yesterday's "shower". Vegeta is still asleep; that's a first. I can only imagine how sore he is from that intense pressure.

I wish Zarbon would come back in here so Vegeta could spit on him again.

By the way, _my _cot is actually _Vegeta's _cot. Thanks to Zarbon's temper tantrum, my cot was melted to smithereens with the bars (apparently he has a metal only attack, don't ask), or at least the metal part was. So, Vegeta took my cot and laid it on the floor beside his, which I am now sleeping on. I don't remember how that happened exactly; I fell asleep in his arms a last night, and the only reason I know that is because the dim lights haven't been turned back on yet, as they are every night at a certain Standard Universe time, which I have no idea as to how it relates to Earth's time. At least the cots are close to the ground, so if I fall off again, I'll land on him instead of the hard floor.

Not that either would be pleasant.

I lay back down, this time on my side. My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness until I can make out shapes. I smile at the dark flame silhouette as the black nothingness starts fading slightly to a dark grey. The lights are set to a timer so that they get gradually brighter, so the guards know what time it is. Of course, we don't have any guards in our block since Vegeta's collar eliminates any hope of escape, but there are still some few prisoners that need such precautions...like the poor bio-experiments.

Well, this would officially count as our first night together. Not in that sense, of course, but you know.

It's cold. I'm lucky my blanket missed Zarbon's blast along with the mattress. Idiot.

I reach down slowly and run my fingers through Vegeta's silky mane. It amazes me how soft it is; my hair has become knotted and hard from the lack of brushing, and my fingers can only do so much as a comb. His hair might have knots too, but it's still as soft as down feathers.

He stirs in his sleep, but doesn't wake. He must be awfully tired. I don't blame him. By the brightness of the lights, I can tell we've both been asleep for at least 20 hours straight.

"What are you doing, Little One?" comes a muffled voice.

Spoke too soon. **What? **I ask. **I can't touch your hair?**

He shifts so he's lying on one shoulder, his face turning up to meet mine. His dark eyes gaze into my cerulean ones, searching. I feel my cheeks tinting, and I know he can see in the dark, but I don't tear my orbs away from his. His black eyes roam over my face, searching for things to give away any other emotion besides slight embarrassment, but I've become pretty skilled in hiding my emotions the same way he does.

Giving up his search, his eyes meet mine again, this time full of mild curiosity. "Why would you want to?"

Hmm, that's a good question.

**I dunno. It's soft, is all.**

"So what?"

**I'm a girl. I like soft things, and your hair is soft.**

"You humans are such weird creatures."

**Says the boy with the tail.**

"My tail isn't weird. It's one of the main sources of power in the Saiyan race!"

…**You realize that **_**since**_** I'm human you sound like an absolute nutcase.**

"Hmph."

I chuckled, petting his hair again. **Why? Does it bother you?**

"No."

He's blushing. The slight embarrassment in his voice and the barely noticible hunch of his shoulders tell me that. What can I say? I'm a people person. A smile graces my lips as he rolls back onto his stomach. His tail flips in the air, suddenly alive with energy.

That's another thing I tend to notice about him. His tail gives away the emotions he's so well-trained at hiding. That's why he keeps it curled around his waist around anyone other than me.

I swear, the appendage has a mind of its own sometimes. He's dozing again, and his furry tail reaches up and smacks my waist. I stifle a giggle as it lifts back into the air and goes to smack me again, but I catch it this time.

His tail twitches in my hand, trying to pull loose, then settles when I don't let go. I hold it gently enough to keep it still, but not so much that I'd hurt him.

My Kami, it's soft. The fur is even softer than his hair. Take the softest material you've ever felt, times that by 100, and you get Saiyan fluffiness.

I pet it softly, trailing my fingers along the soft down. Vegeta moans softly.

"What are you doing _now_, Onna?" he murmurs.

**Petting you.**

"I am not a dog."

**No, you're a little alien half monkey, or something. Who's really fluffy, by the way." **

He chuckled, sounding drunk. "I would have taken that as an insult by anyone else, you know."

**Good thing I'm not anyone else. **

"So, why are you petting me again?"

**Again, I'm a girl, and I like fluffy things. You're fluffy, so I like you.**

He smiled into the mattress. "So, you wouldn't like me if I was scaly?"

**Eh…maybe. I might've thought you were ugly or something, but I'd probably still like you. You're nice to me.**

"The Prince of Saiyans is nice to no one."

**Suuuure.**

I ran my hand up and down the furry limb. He grunted softly, a purring noise coming from his throat.

Kami, that was so cute! **Do you realize that you're purring?**

"Mmhmm."

**That's like, freakishly cute. Why haven't I done this before?**

"Because you were in a different cell."

**True. You know, you're kinda like a big sleepy kitty cat.**

He snorted. "I thought you said I was a monkey."

**You are. A really cute monkey. But monkeys don't purr. **

"I am a Saiyan, not a monkey."

**So, you have an alligator tail then?**

"Don't be foolish. I use my tail to transform into Oozaru when I see the full moon. You know that."

**Yeah. By the way, we are on the moon. So how come you haven't transformed?**

"The blutz waves that the sun reflects off the moon has to enter my retina for me to change. There aren't any windows here, so I don't change. They blindfolded me before we landed, and took it off when we got inside."

**Don't you have eye lasers or something? **

"Yes," he mumbles sleepily. "Ki reducer, remember?"

I'd only been kidding about the eye lasers.

Vegeta dozed as I continued petting his tail, the incessant purring in his chest echoing softly off the walls. He sighed contentedly, looking to have fallen asleep again.

I seem to be wrong about him an awful lot.

He rolled over again suddenly, grabbing my wrist. I yelped as he pulled me off of my cot and on top of him; or at least, I would have been on top of him, had he not moved suddenly out of the way.

Instead, I landed on his cot beside him, both his arms wrapped around my waist, his tail around the wrist of the hand I'd been petting him with, and his nose buried in the crook of my neck.

I inhaled sharply, though not from lack of breath. Wasn't expecting that one.

"I used to like soft things too…" he whispers, "…when I was two."

**Shut up,** I manage.

He chuckles, his hot breath tickling my neck. "You are soft, though," he says. "Why, someone could just up and squish you, you're so tiny and fragile."

My mind struggles to find a sensible, quirky comment say – or think, rather – but I come up with nothing. It's like all my logic was being chased into the farthest unreachable corners of my brain by the colorful butterflies that had found their way to my stomach.

I always loved butterflies.

* * *

><p>She smells like căpşune berries.<p>

I don't know how that's possible. As long as we've been in here, she should reek of dust and grim, especially since we only get baths once a week. I still smell the faint scent of blood on her, but the căpşune smell overpowers it.

I used to love căpşune berries. It was the main ingredient in Itsúdikío, my favorite food. I used to eat them all up before my mother could make the Itsúdikío, and she would pretend to scold me as she wiped the berry juiced off of my face.

My father never understood why she made it herself. We had enough personal chefs to feed an entire Saiyan clan, and that's saying something. But she was always a hands-on type of person, and she couldn't stand it when someone did things for her.

So, she always made me Itsúdikío.

I miss her.

My Little One's heartbeat has sped up suddenly. I expected that, since I all but dumped her off her cot, but she should have calmed by now.

Surely she's not all excited because she's this close to _me_.

"I used to like soft things too…" I whisper, "…when I was two."

**Shut** **up**, she says.

I chuckled, breathing softly on her ivory skin. "You are soft, though," I said. "Why, someone could just up and squish you, you're so tiny and fragile."

Her heart is hammering now. I can hear her pulse thudding, like she's having difficulty breathing.

I inhale slowly, breathing in her scent again. "You smell like căpşune berries, Little One," I said.

**That'd better be a compliment, since I have no idea what those are.**

I smirked. "They're used to make Itsúdikío. They're big red berries with small seeds scattered across the skin, and they grew on little bushes on my home planet."

**Sounds like a strawberry.**

I shrugged. "I don't know what that is, either. But it was one of my favorite fruits."

**So, it is a compliment?**

"I suppose."

She smiled. **Hmm. I thought I would smell awful, since we're in here. I always feel dirty, especially with this lack of fresh air. I can't believe I haven't gotten sick.**

"Foolish onna. Do you really think you could get sick with my Ki fluctuating through your veins? Whenever I expand your vocal cords, your body absorbs some of my healing energy."

**Really? **

"No, I was kidding," I said sarcastically. "Of course, really. A Saiyan gets stronger with every recovery from any injury, and we hardly ever get sick."

**Oh,** she says softly.

I blinked. What, no comeback? No incessant questions? Nothing?

"Are you alright?" I asked. Damn, I know I just let concern show in my voice.

I feel her chin lower itself to my head as she looks down at me. **Yes. Why wouldn't I be?**

"I don't know. You aren't talking as much. You aren't sore, or anything?"

**Yeah, I'm sore, but I guess it isn't that bad considering how sore you must be. I'm sorry you got hurt because of me. Besides, can't we enjoy each other's company without debating about something?**

I smiled, just a little. "Who said I enjoyed your company?" I teased.

**Oh, shut up, **she said cheerfully. **You love me and you know it.**

"Meh. I'm a warrior; I have no time for such trivial things like love."

**Sure. Our schedule is sooo busy, we barely have time to stop and take a nap.**

I chuckled, obviously caught in my blatant lie. Okay, so I like her, and okay, I'd miss her if she was gone. Big deal.

She strokes my tail gently, her shoulders shaking gently with a small giggle as a purr emanates from my chest again. Her other arm is draped gently over my face, her free hand entwined in my hair.

I run my fingers through her blue locks too, frowning when I realize I still have my gloves on.

I pull one off without her noticing, and raise my hand to touch her hair again. It's tangled and matted from not having a hair brush in two years, even though she combs through it thoroughly during bathing days using her little fingers as a comb. But I can still feel the originally naturally soft texture of the blue strands.

She slides herself lower on the cot so that my chin is now on top of her head, and she has to reach up to touch my hair.

Jeez, all this petting and hugging and crap, it should disgust me. I've never been one to wallow in meaningless affection.

Except…it's not meaningless anymore. It's one of the most important things I have left in this Kami-forsaken universe.

She sighs, tickling my neck this time as she…what's that word she uses…snuggles closer to me.

**You smell like pine needles, and something else,** she says. **It's like spices, but I've never smells them before. I guess they're Saiyan or something. It smells good.**

I should be thoroughly grossed out by all these sentiments, but hey, I'm thirteen now, I've got my momentary lapse in focus, same as everyone else.

She starts playing lyrics to Chickyuu songs in her head. I admit, it's a pretty melody.

**How long will this take?  
>How much can I go through? My heart, my soul aches; I don't know what to do. I bend, but don't break, And somehow I'll get through Because I have you. And if I had to crawl, Well, you'd crawl too. I stumble and I fall, Carry me through. The wonder of it all is you, See me through. <strong>

It's been a long time since I had a nice, peaceful moment like this. I finally feel at ease. The melody is lulling me slowly to sleep, and I close my eyes as I burry my face in her hair, my tail wrapping around her little waist as her little arms wrap around mine.

I'm almost asleep with the door burst open, clanging loudly against the walls.

* * *

><p>Zarbon's blue eyes are laced with the usual irritation and furry, his consistent scowl still sewn onto his lips.<p>

But suddenly, there is a change in his sour demeanor. He looks amused.

The reason for this?

He just walked into the block he hates most to find a Saiyan monkey and a human weakling snuggling on the same cot when there are clearly two cots available.

"Well, isn't this interesting," he smirks.

Vegeta growled against Bulma's skin, his grip on her tightening as he pulls her closer to him, if that was possible.

"What do you want, you slimy reptilian?" he snarled. Bulma turned her head ever so slightly, her big cerulean eyes full of defeat and aguish once more.

Couldn't the universe give her one minute of piece? He'd finally snuggled with her, finally returned the gesture of affection, finally able to truly hold each other, and Zarbon shows up _now?_

Come one, _really?_

Then she notices something.

Zarbon doesn't have the pole in his hand.

She can tell by the suspicious look on Vegeta's face that he's noticed too. Zarbon sees their quizzical looks and smirks.

"Oh, I was just feeling a bit pissed off, so I decided to come here and vent my anger."

Vegeta's lips started to part in a hiss, but someone beat him too it. His eyes open wide in surprise; Bulma has made a sound. She glared at the blue lizard, furry and hatred evident in her eyes.

**Tell him I said to get the hell away,** she growled.

'Tell him yourself,' he replied, curious at her abilities.

**Excuse me?**

'Force the thought in his mind. You can't bond with him unless you have simultaneous physical and mental contact. Tell him yourself.'

She concentrated, her blue eyebrows knitting together with effort.

**Get the hell out of here, Zarbon,** she snapped.

The reptilian's eyes widened. "Well, little whore," he said, "I'm thoroughly impressed. Seems that Vegeta has taught you a thing or two. But I didn't come here to listen to you bitch. Now, since I have orders not to bring you harm, I would appreciate it if you'd get out of my way, so I can get some issues off my chest."

**I'm not letting go of him. And if you hurt me, I'll tell Frieza.**

As if to prove her point further, her arms tightened around the Saiyan Prince, and she buried the left half of her face in his chest, her right eye still glaring daggers at Zarbon.

He sighed. "Such determination for a weakling," he said, smirking. "You'll be fun to break, Little One. Of course, Frieza will have you broken plenty when he's done with you. It'll be a pretty fast trial, I think. He always moves on quickly. I'm amazed he's kept Vegeta this long; you must be pretty good, little monkey."

Vegeta's cheeks darkened with humiliation, and he let out a feral growl. "Go away," he hissed. "She's mine."

Bulma stared at him. **I am?** She thought this only to the Pfince; it wasn't any of Zarbon's business, anyway.

He smirked. 'Of course you are. You think I'd go through all this trouble to protect you if I didn't have any ownership?'

**Oooh, you jerk! I don't belong to anybody, mister! I am Bulma Briefs, and I only belong to myself –**

"Are you two done with your silent conversations? Honestly, it's making me want to gag." Zarbon took a step closer. "I didn't know Vegeta could be so mushy. 'Mine' indeed. I don't smell _that_ much of you on her, and frankly, even you aren't so stupid as to claim something Frieza has put on reserve. Now, if you're done playing house, I'll just go ahead and beat you, so I can be on my merry way."

More hissing erupted in the room, snarls loudly off the walls of the confined cell. "Get the hell out!"

Footsteps sounded in the dark, and suddenly Bulma felt herself being wrenched away from the Prince, her little body crashing against the closed doorway.

"Bastard!" Vegeta yelled. Punch to the face.

"Bitch!" Zarbon sent a knee to his stomach.

"Man-whore!" Kick to the neck.

"Slave!" Punch to the gut.

"Fat ugly toad!" Headshot.

"Insufferable monkey!" Side kick.

"Whore fetching wench!"

"Weakling!"

"O Great Wearer of Panties!"

Ooh, that was a good one.

"You stupid ape!" Zarbon screeched. Great Wearer of Panties? That monkey brat had gone too far.

He lunged at Vegeta, only to slam into the wall when he realized the Saiyan was no longer there.

Laughter sounded from the room, but telling in which direction would be impossible. Vegeta was throwing his voice, and despite his reptilian appearance, Zarbon could not see in the dark nearly as well as the Saiyan Prince could. In fact, he couldn't see any better than Bulma, and he'd foolishly pulled the door to behind him, shutting out all possible light.

"Stupid? Dear Zarbon, you've got it all backwards. I'm not the stupid one. Actually, I believe I've currently got the upper hand here. Now tell me, with as much battle experience you've had, why was I the superior strategist, even before I was thrown in here?"

A shape darted pass, and Bulma's mouth fell open in surprise as a smack of bone against flesh resounded. A good punch to the jaw had caused the noise.

Zarbon reeled, wiping a drop of blood from his bottom lip. "Monkey brat," he spat.

"Oh, so you remember? Wonderful, I'd thought you'd forgotten. Are you paying attention, Onna? This is a funny story."

Another flash of movement, and another sound of flesh slamming, this time against armor that was a poor resemblance of the original Saiyan design, worn by all of Frieza's men.

"See, I was 8 when Frieza made a treaty with my father, although it was more like an oppression, if you ask me."

Dash. A side-sweep kick, and Zarbon went crashing to the ground.

"Anyway, to test me, Frieza had me conduct a mission to a small planet with beings of considerable power levels. Of course, it was mere child's play to me, in a literal sense of the term."

Zarbon hissed. The blue haired pre-teen could just barely make out his tall form rising to its feet, and crouching into a fighting position, only to receive and elbow to the head.

"Well, Zarbon here wanted to be all holier-than-thou and came up with the most absurd plan. My, there were so many holes in it. I mean, c'mon, Bon Bon, surely you could see that even you would have a bit of trouble with those inhabitants."

She stifled a giggle, knowing full well that letting it escape would more than likely result in her death. _Bon Bon? Three, two…_

"HOW **DARE** YOU CALL ME THAT, YOU MORONIC EXCUSE FOR A PRINCE?"

And there it is.

"_Anyway, _if I could please finish what I was saying –" Vegeta appeared out of nowhere, Zarbon's neck suddenly captured in his hand, slamming the blue lizard against the wall. "- I came up with a much better plan, and of course, since everyone liked me a little better than Lizard Lips here, we went with my proposal. And POW! No more planet Aira! Kami, wasn't somebody a little pissed? And they say I have anger management issues."

Bulma shuddered a little at how casually he talked about destroying a planet. True, it wasn't like he'd been given a choice, but still.

"This is IMPOSSIBLE!" Zarbon yelled. "I am Frieza's right hand man, you are nothing but a stupid APE! What's wrong with that damn collar of yours? This shouldn't be possible!"

"Shut up," Vegeta said, almost pleasantly. "You're getting on my nerves. And anyway, nothing's wrong with the 'damn collar'. I've just got too much energy for it to contain." He looked at Bulma then, mischief written on his face. "Hey, Onna? Do me a favor, would ya? Open that door as wide as you can and then get out of the way."

She scrambled to her feet, pleased to be useful. The door wasn't locked; since you can't unlock it from the inside, Zarbon had left it open. And what a lucky break, the bars were unlocked too!

The door was heavy. She pushed and shoved, and about a minute later had it halfway open.

"Any day now, Little One," Vegeta teased.

**Oh, shut up. This thing is damn heavy. **With another push, she shoved it open and darted out of the way as Vegeta had requested. She made it just in time before Zarbon's body went flying through the door, which Vegeta promptly slammed the second the henchman had become airborne.

"Asshole," he muttered. "Who the hell does he think he is? Idiot."

Bulma stared at him.

**Hey, Veggie?**

He raised an eyebrow in the now dim lighting. "What did you just call me?"

**Shut it, before I downgrade to Veg-head. Do you realize you just took on Zarbon and won without your Ki turned on?**

He blinked, looking at his hands. Then he grinned.

"Well, damn," he said cheerfully. "No, Onna, I didn't, not really. I bet with my Ki, I'd be strong enough to become Legendary! I'm stronger than I thought! I mean, sure, I had a sort of advantage with the light and such, and the idiots turned my Ki down so low, but still! His power level is 23,000!"

**Yeah. He couldn't use Ki blast either, really, because then he'd blow me to bits, but if you think about it, you're probably a lot stronger than he is now, what with that thing keeping your power level at two and all. Impressive.**

"I don't even know where that power came from," he admitted. "It wasn't there yesterday."

**Anger, maybe?**

His thick black eyebrows rose higher.

**Whenever I got mad, I got a bit stronger,** she elaborated. **Like if I tried to lift something heavy while I was in a good mood, I couldn't do it. But if I was really pissed off at something, then my anger would fuel my energy, and I'd feel stronger for a split second. See?**

He thought for a minute.

_Pure of Heart and Born of Rage, a mighty Saiyan will arise from the ashes of a fallen homeland, and he shall be called Legendary._

"You know something, Little One? You might just be on to something."

There was a pause.

Then, **Hey, Vegeta?**

"Hn?"

**O Great Wearer of Panties?**

He laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I admit it; I am a sucker for fluffy tail moments…and putting songs in my writing. XD I really hope that doesn't annoy you guys to no end cuz I honestly don't think I could actually stop. **

**You guys like fluffy tail moments though, don't you, my dear adorable readers? **

**I don't know if this chapter is any good because I wrote it while I was really tired and I don't think it can be fixed any better without starting again from scratch, and that is against my religion. **

**By the way, Super Saiyan is still a long way off. But since this is my AU and I can do whatever the hell I want, I made Vegeta physically stronger than Zarbon, and of course our favorite big blue lizard face couldn't burn Bulma to a crisp so he couldn't use Ki or he'd be in huge trouble. So, just to clarify on that. **

**REVIEWS!**

**~KimiruMai**


	5. The Games

**A/N: MY GOD.**

**14 reviews last chappie! 54 in all! Sheesh. Well, 53. If anyone didn't see this, I hate posting authors notes by themselves and making you guys think I've updated, so I went and searched my own story till I found it and reviewed instead of sending a mass message cuz that takes way too long. So just look at the reviews of chapter four and see which one is from me if you want to read it. So that clears things up. Thank you guys so much! 54 reviews and only four chapters? 509 visitors in January alone? That's pretty damn good, if I do say so myself!**

**Saiyanwarrior23; Firestorm1991; loves2readandwrite; hiesdragonfly; XDarkAngelOfLoveX; sofy2011; Lilly Moonlight; Kayurak, tsukisama14; Xena; xXxMudvayneGirlxXx; WildVegeta; girl on fire: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm glad you guys liked the fluffy tail moment, and the 'O Great Wearer of Panties' bit too XD Thank you so much for reading and reviewing as often as you guys do!**

**So, whataya say, readers? Got 54 reviews so far (well, technically 53 XD silly me) can we make it to a hundred in the next few chappies? Let's give it a try XD**

**Disclaimer: Hey, look everybody! *Points at mirror* It's that one chick that **_**still**_** doesn't own DBZ!**

**Sigh. I'm disappointed in myself though. Even though I haven't read it in like forever and I really only remember **_**extremely **_**vague parts since I've read so many since then, my brain subconsciously pulls things out from that story Free My Heart, and puts them into this. **

**So, to counteract my belief on that matter, I'm adding a little…twist.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: The Games<br>**

I sigh in relief as I quickly checked the piece of cloth I use as a substitute for feminine products to find that there is no sign of fresh blood.

Hallelujah. My umpteenth period is finally over.

I fight back the normal yelp at the sudden spurt of water and stand up, rinsing the cloth as much as I can and tucking it into my pocket for next time.

"Is it safe now?" comes a muffled voice from out cot.

As usual, Vegeta is lying face down into the hard mattress, pulling the sorry excuses we have for blankets tight over his head. He turned 14 sometime roughly 7 months ago; I'm 13 now too, and puberty isn't being any kinder to me than it is to him.

**Yes, it's safe, you royal pain in the ass.**

"I can assure you, woman, that I am not the cause of your feminine discomforts."

**Ooh, you little jerk. Your future wife is going to hate you.**

"What makes you think I'm getting one?"

**Oh, don't be stupid. When we get out of here, girls are going to be all over you, and you know it.**

"Hn."

He's embarrassed by my blunt compliment. Well, tough luck. It's been two and a half years; if we don't have a comfortable friendship right now, then I don't even want to know what the universe has upgraded its standards to concerning 'best friends'.

So, since he's embarrassed, I'm waiting patiently for him to retaliate and say something about his monstrous nature and/or my mental instability.

"I'll have you know, Onna, most females take off running when they see me. You, for whatever reason, are the only one who bothers crying over the fact that I might end up dead. So, either you are entirely too forgiving for your own safety and sanity, or you just lost whatever saneness you may or may not have been born with a long time ago. My guess is the latter."

See?

**Pfft. Maybe I just like you, you overgrown fuzz ball. And I bet they'd come running **_**to**_** you if you weren't always threatening planets.**

"You say that like I had a choice," he says, not at all bitterly. Suddenly, he raises his head from the mattress, the blanket sitting on top of his head like a nun's veil. "What made _you_ come running, anyway?"

I blushed furiously. **I did not come running, you moron. I was forced in here, same as you.**

"That must be like you like cuddling so much. I swear, I haven't been hugged this much since I was three years old."

**Oh shut up. I told you females get temperamental during their time of the month. You should be happy I wasn't totally bitching you out. That's what's supposed to happen.**

"I dunno. You bitched Zarbon out plenty."

**He deserved it. Just be happy it wasn't directed at you. And anyway, you're still fluffy, and fluffy things are fun to cuddle with.**

"Please tell me that doesn't mean you plan on continuing."

I smirked devilishly.

He groaned and stood up. "I'm not 'snuggling' any more, Onna. You're better now, so we're going to train."

I sighed. **Fine. Teach me that new Kata, then.**

Vegeta nodded, pulled off his shirt, and began stretching.

* * *

><p>Bulma joined the Prince and stretched too, but quickly, since she was so small she didn't have much to stretch. Vegeta was still growing, and had gained another quarter inch in the past week. For this reason, his muscles were very sore, and he had to stretch longer.<p>

Bulma sat on her cot and watched him finish. He pulled his arms across his torso, loosening the muscles in his shoulders. He slid into a lunge position to stretch out his legs, and finally, slowly did a backbend to stretch out his torso. His hands touched the floors softly, and he lingered in a bridge for a moment before he kicked his legs up and over his head, landing gracefully on his feet.

**You done now, fuzzball? **She asked.

He glowered at her, and she chuckled.

"You should learn to respect your sensei, Little One," he said.

**Since when are you my sensei?**

"Since the second I started teaching you how to perform Katas."

**Touché. **

"Well? Come on, get over here. I'm not waiting all day; I've got training to do."

She stood and walked over to him, standing straight in a military pose. _Sensei_ Vegeta didn't take kindly to poor posture. He looked her over calmly, all serious.

"Watch me first," he commanded.

She nodded and he began.

The kata was beautiful. He began with basic forms; a swift step forward accompanied by a punch, a step back accompanied by a left swing; a kick high over his head, followed by a series of quick punches and jabs. The moves then got far more complicated; Bulma couldn't for the life of her begin to explain exactly what it was he did. A combination of kicks, punches, spins, and leaps ensued, all performed in a matter of literally ten seconds.

He finished in a smooth crouch, shifting his weight onto one leg, the other extended gracefully in front of him. His arms were spread on either side of him, one hand in a loose fist, the other with straightened fingers held in what an earthling would call a potential high five, but what Bulma would call pure deadly.

He straightened quickly, trying to keep a straight face, but failed and started laughing.

Bulma snapped out of her daze and glared at him. **What the hell is so funny?**

"Your face!" he laughed, clutching at his sides. "My god, you should see your face!"

**Shut up!** she seethed. **You act like it's my fault I can't believe you're freaking amazing. I'll never be able to move that fast, ever. **

Quite suddenly, he stilled his laughter. "I don't think it's best to say you can't do something you've never tried. That would be foolish."

**Oh hush. I'll get a lot faster eventually, sure. But that fast? Hell no. I could barely see you. **

He shrugged. "Whatever. Are you ready to try it now?" She nodded and stood in front of him again.

"Now," he said, "show me the first step."

Bulma thought back to what she'd seen and copied his movements.

He nodded. "Step two."

Back step, swing.

"No. Don't swing too hard. If you put too much power into that, you'll bend your arm wrong when your hand comes into contact with an opponent. Swing with mid power, and a follow up punch will take care of the rest."

She swung again, glancing at him for critique.

Vegeta bit his lip and cocked his head, thinking.

"Here," he said. He stepped closer, taking her small arm in his large hand. He pulled her arm back and showed her the proper way to swing in slow motion. He kept her arm straighter than she had been originally, and motioned for her to try again without his aid. She obeyed, and the jab became both cleaner and swifter.

He nodded. "Good. Now the kick."

Bulma tried to copy the high aimed attack that he'd done, but stumbled and lost her balance, falling to her arse.

He shook his head. "What are you doing, Onna? Surely I didn't look that clumsy."

Vegeta chuckled as another glare was thrown his way. **I can't kick that high, you idiot. My clothes are already digging into my skin like damn fire, and frankly I'm just not that flexible yet. **

"I've been training you for nearly three years and you can't even do that?"

**Vegeta! A kick like that takes flexibility, and you are far more flexible than I am.**

He smirked. "You do realize how wrong that sounded."

Her cheeks darkened. **You're such a pain in the ass.**

"I don't believe our cuddling has gone quite that far yet, Onna."

**Oh my god, would you just shut up?**

"Depends. What do I get out of it?"

She growled. He laughed and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

He'd forgotten about his recent increase in physical strength and pulled her too hard; Bulma came flying up and smashed into his bare torso. Before she could fall again, his muscular arms wrapped around her tiny form, pulling her close again. After being certain that she wasn't going to fall again, he loosened his grip. She stepped back, and he looked into her eyes, his dark orbs boring into hers with intense ferocity.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, glancing away. Vegeta frowned, catching her chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, forcing her to look at him. His eyes searched her thoroughly, looking for any signs that she might not be telling him the truth as to not look weak.

She blushed at the contact, her heart speeding up as it always did. He blinked, and stared at her.

"Why do you do that?"

She jumped at his question. **Do what?**

"That thing with your heart. You always make it go faster when I touch you. Why? Are you afraid of me?"

He says the last part with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Bulma blushed furiously. **No! Of course not! You're not scary; at least, not to me. **

"Then why do you do that?"

She sighed and pulled away from him. **It's…complicated. I'll tell you later. **

A look of hurt flashed in his eyes; barely noticeable, but Bulma still saw it. After seeing him nearly every single hour of the day, Bulma knew him well enough to catch the things that other people wouldn't have taken a second glance at.

She sighed again. Knowing him so well, she also knew that he'd never admit he liked 'cuddling' with her. Saiyans were social creatures, that much was obvious. They're similarities to apes were not just physical; monkeys off all kinds normally stayed in groups, and Saiyans too had their own tribes. Now that Vegeta's tribe had been wiped out, he had no one.

No one but her.

**Vegeta – **

The door clanged open with its usual force, stopping Bulma mid-sentence. Zarbon stood in the doorway, his usual pissed off look sewn onto his face.

"Move it, monkey brat. Frieza wants you for a little chat."

Vegeta's lithe body immediately lowered to a fighting stance, a feral hiss ripping from his throat. "Hell no," he snapped. "I'm _so_ not in the mood after the last thrashing he gave me."

Bulma winced visibly.

Zarbon rolled his eyes. "I meant a literal chat, you ape. The Games are coming up in two months. He wants you to be in them."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, rising out of his fighting stance, though still looking suspicious. "What the hell for? He has plenty of strong fighters to win his whores for him."

Zarbon rolled his eyes again. "How should I know? Now move it, before I make you."

Vegeta snorted. "Make me? Like you can anymore. Or don't you remember that first time I kicked your ass?"

Zarbon's blue cheeks flamed. "Shut your mouth, monkey brat. Frieza wishes to speak to you. Now move it."

Vegeta muttered something foul in his native language and began heading toward the door. He'd go willingly just this once, if only because he was curious about why Frieza would ever want to just talk, especially about such matters.

Before he reached the entrance to the cell, however, he felt a small hand take his big one. He looked at the pale fingers that had caught his own, his dark eyes rising to meet Bulma's.

**Be careful,** she said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, just a little, and squeezed back gently. "You say that like I know what it means."

**You are such an ass.**

"As I've told you multiple times before, flattery will get you nowhere."

"What part of get your ass moving didn't you understand?" Zarbon snapped impatiently.

"The 'moving' part," Vegeta quirked.

Zarbon snarled, pressing a button on the silver rod he always carried. Red cuffs appeared on Vegeta's wrist and ankles, though the ankle cuffs were separated so he could walk. Silver strings faded in and out of sight before becoming invisible, attaching his collar and the wrist cuffs that held his arms in front of him to the edge of the pole.

"That's new," Vegeta remarked casually.

He felt Bulma squeeze his hand again, and realized he was still holding it. He blushed furiously, and tried to pull away, but the blue haired female just walked closer to him. She moved her hand from his and placed it on his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

**Please don't be such an ass and provoke him,** she said in almost a whisper. **I'd much rather you come back **_**not**_** covered in your own blood for once, okay? Just come back in one piece, alright?**

He gaped at her, stunned from the feel of her lips on his skin.

Any other time, Bulma would have laughed herself silly. For once in his life, the Prince was completely and utterly speechless.

No one but his mother had ever kissed him before…or at least, not so lovingly. His mother's lips had always been soft and full, and even though Bulma's lips were a bit hard and dry from nearly three years without human cleansing supplies, the former's kisses had never made him feel like this.

His stomach had ignited into an airy flame, his insides leaping with a new type of excitement he'd never experienced. He felt his breath leave him for a second as his eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. He felt like his core was no longer tangible, and he moved his arm to brush his side, just to make sure it was still there. Even his long tail had frozen in place.

Zarbon yanked on the rod, pulling Vegeta forward. Bulma waved at him, her unnaturally cheerful face miserably failing to mask her attempt at hiding her worry and disappointment that he was being taken away again.

His captor slammed the door shut, blindfolding the Prince and forcing him down the long corridors to the space pod launch pad. Zarbon shoved him inside, and the cuffs on his ankles fused to keep him from kicking (not that it would have worked) and set his course on autopilot, subsequently climbing into his own pod and blasting off.

Vegeta kept his eyes open under the black sash that was tied over his eyes. He didn't care that his lashes were being smashed uncomfortably against the cloth. No, he was too busy thinking. His tail thumped thoughtfully against the seat of the pod. He supposed he could lift the blindfold with his tail, but he was pretty sure even his Oozaru form couldn't breathe in space. And who would look after the Onna if he died?

Speaking of which…

_It's just hormones,_ he assured himself. _You're 14 and going through hormonal changes. She's the only Saiyanoid female you've seen in 3 years…it's just physical un-settlement, that's all._

Wasn't it?

But then…

Why would such a simple gesture send his stomach to do somersaults? His lips hadn't even brushed hers in the slightest; it had been a simple peck on the cheek; a common gesture between two friends on many planets, he knew.

She'd stated multiple times that she liked him. Surely she hadn't meant _that _way…

He realized with a start that his heart had been thudding wildly in his chest, and was just now calming. His mind flashed back to when his Little One's heartbeat had sped up the same way when his skin made contact with hers…

Surely not…

But then, why did such a simple, irrelevant gesture…

Make him feel like they were the only two compatible beings in the universe?

* * *

><p>Frieza snickered as a blindfolded Vegeta was forced into the room, the red cuffs that had held his wrist in front of him now pinning his arms behind his body. Zarbon made sure to push him at just the right angle, and the Saiyan Prince tripped over his own feet, crashing to the ground at Frieza's feet.<p>

"Hello, little monkey," Frieza said cheerfully. "Zarbon, sit him up, would you dear? I really would love to see his face when he hears the news."

"Yes, Master."

Vegeta listened, hearing the flutter of the silken curtains, followed by footsteps. He cried out as he felt claws digging into his scalp as Zarbon pulled him up by the hair and sat him on his knees. He tossed the Saiyan's head away, and Vegeta had no choice but to let him.

"I said sit him **up**, Zarbon! I want to see his reaction!"

"My apologies, my Lord."

Another yank on his hair straightened his posture, the incessant pulling forcing him to look up.

"Well, monkey? Aren't you going to ask me what I want with you?" asked a sickeningly sweet voice.

Vegeta remained silent, unsure of what the lizard actually wanted him to do.

A vicious slap across his face sent him flying across the room, correcting his error. He yelped at the stinging pain, a growl threatening to rise from his throat as Frieza's cold hand dug into his hair, dragging him back to his place in front of the tyrant's throne.

"I asked you a question, monkey."

_Please don't be such an ass and provoke him. I'd much rather you come back not covered in your own blood for once, okay? Just come back in one piece, alright?_

His pride was still intact, but it was rare that she actually asked something so serious of him. Most of what she wanted him to do was that ridiculous snuggling she loved, or training her; just small things that he didn't truly think twice about. But this one was important. She wanted something. Something truly solemn and somber, something that had to do with his well-being…the one thing that she actually gave a shit about.

She wanted his safety, and no way in hell was he letting it slip through his fingers before he could give it to her.

She wanted it, and it would be hers.

"You called for me, Master Frieza?" he asked tentatively.

A surprised gasp sounded from above him. "Did you see that, Zarbon? The monkey yielded!"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Let's see if he does it again. Vegeta, would you like to know why I have called you?"

He swallowed. He hated being blindfolded. He felt so helpless. Even his other extremely sharp senses wouldn't be enough to save him from the tyrant, especially if he was bound.

He suddenly wished his chest wasn't bare.

"I…it's not truly relevant, Lord Frieza, if I wish to know. But I will listen, if you wish to tell me."

"Good gods, he did it again!" The purple lizard cried gleefully.

"Incredible," Zarbon agreed in a monotone.

Frieza snickered. "This certainly is interesting. Well, Little Monkey, you are coming of age, and I wish to auction you off. So, when the Games come, you will be one of the prizes."

Vegeta's head shot up.

What? No! He couldn't! He could be sold! No!

Frieza cackled, clapping his hands. "HA! THERE IT IS, ZARBON! LOOK AT THAT FACE! Hahaha, it's so weak and helpless! I love it!"

Vegeta shivered as he suddenly felt unnaturally cold breath on his bare shoulders, Goosebumps appearing on his neck. His lips fell open as he sucked in his gasp of fear.

"See, Cooler has challenged me, Vegeta. He says his whores are nicer than mine, and people will fight harder in the games for them than for mine. So, I am taking all my finest, and putting them up for display. Of course, since these select few will be our finest, we will only give them to the men for an allotted time. They will be permitted to do whatever they wish to you for about 6 months, provided you aren't killed during that time, so that they can return the whores to either me or Cooler, whoever the owner may be, when their time is up. And as it appears, you happen to be one of my finest."

Dear god.

Vegeta's breath came in ragged gulps, his air suddenly gone.

No…being raped by Frieza was bad enough, but suppose Cooler forced whoever won him to give him to the taller purple lizard? Cooler was significantly stronger than Frieza. If he was taken advantage of like that…

He would never recover.

Vegeta thrashed, falling onto his back. His feet skittered across the floor as he did whatever he possibly could to get away. The red cuffs burned into his flesh, his arm muscles flexing as he struggled.

"Haha! Look at him squirm, Zarbon! Stupid monkey is scared silly!"

"Very amusing, my Lord," Zarbon smirked in reply.

The Saiyan Prince felt slimy cold hands roam over his torso suddenly, and he let out a blood curling scream.

"Now, Vegeta. You know its hurts everyone's ears when you scream like that. If you would just relax and go with it, it wouldn't hurt nearly as bad. But then, I always liked a bit of spunk in my bed mates. I suppose that's why you are one of my favorites. That, and that handsome face." Purple claws dug into his skin as Frieza took his chin in his scaly hand, lifting the Saiyan's head once more. "Isn't he handsome, Zarbon? I've only ever seen such bronze skin on monkeys before. Isn't it lovely?"

Zarbon gave a barely audible hiss.

Frieza was frowning now; Vegeta could almost hear his critical observations, they were so thick.

He suddenly felt breath very close to his face, and he launched backwards again, only to meet with a wall.

"Have you been working out, Monkey?"

Oh, Kami, someone help…

"Figures. I didn't think you'd be able to sit still in that cage long. I suppose that's good; wouldn't want to show off a weak slave to Cooler."

Vegeta trembled as another hand slid seductively down his chest, sharp fingernails coming to rest just above the rim of the spandex pants that he'd recently ripped into shorts due to his increase in height.

"Your muscles are firmer than the last time I fucked you," the sickeningly feminine voice purred in his ear. "How long has it been, nearly a month? Impressive, little monkey. And you've grown taller. Are you longer as well?"

Vegeta screamed as the hand slid lower, stopping at one spot where, above all other areas, the tyrant was not welcome. He struggled, but a heavy purple and white tail suddenly pinned him in place, rendering him immobile.

"Tsk, hush, Little Monkey. I will do it quickly, just this once, and only because I want you in top condition for the Games. Can't have you going all mental on me, now can I?"

No, no no no, please no, dear Kami…

His screams fell to soft whimpers as a hand closed around his neck, cutting off his air supply. Scaly lips cascaded across his scarred body, starting at his muscled neck and working their way down his perfectly carved abs. He gritted his teeth, all but panting with a growing fear.

He vaguely heard Zarbon's scouter beeping, and footsteps as Zarbon quickly exited the room.

Good. One less person to see him in such agony.

* * *

><p>I squeezed my eyes shut, despite the fact that I couldn't see anything.<p>

Dear Kami, make him stop…

If there's anything I hate about myself, it's my weakness. Already my tears are sliding down my cheeks, dripping to my chest. I wriggle in disgust as I feel a purple tongue lap them up like water, or…

Please, someone, make it go away.

A strangled sob escapes my lips as I suddenly realize my boots are no longer on my feet, and my pants are slowly sliding down my waist. My body is responding exactly opposite of what I want it to. Any second now, the cloth will no longer be shielding me, and once again Frieza will take what he wants.

And then he takes my tail.

I scream, air rushing to my lungs as he releases my throat, only to leave again as he squeezes my tail and my muscles become immobile. I can do nothing except moan in agony as his teeth rake through my fur, the nerves in my tail screaming in sheer pain.

The worst part? He doesn't think I'm groaning in pain. He thinks I'm moaning in pleasure, and sucks on it harder.

Disgusting.

My back arches as my body finally obeys me, my bare feet sliding on the cold floor as I struggle to pull my tail away. Again, my movements are taken wrongly, and the assault continues at a faster pace.

I should have known it would come to this.

I cry out as he pulls my tail harder, his free hand straying back to my middle. A malicious hiss forms on my lips, my tail lashing out violently; or at least, it tries to, but it's still caught in his filthy mouth.

His revolting hands on my tail feel nothing like what Bulma does. Her tiny hands always brought me peace and calm. She always pets me gently, lovingly, caringly. Never once has she ever hurt me. She had many chances to render me helpless, or at least, more so than I already was, but she didn't.

Bulma.

I remember the first time she petted me like that; the first night without the bars to separate us. I'd pulled her down to lay with me, and she had without question. I remember her heartbeat thudding in my ears, the smell of căpşune berries flooding my nose, her soft, slightly matted blue tresses falling gently in my hand, her fingers entwined in my hair, her arm wrapped snugly around my waist.

Bulma.

It had been the first time I'd felt truly happy since my mother died nearly seven years ago. And then Zarbon had to come in and screw it all up.

I whispered her name in my head, trying to focus on what little happy memories I had. Nearly all of them were with her. I thought about it harder, replaying nearly every conversation in time lapse, all the while purring over her name to take away the pain.

Bulma.

Goddammit. I lied to her. I lied.

I truly had liked lying with her; I liked having her pressed against me. It gave me a feeling of protectiveness, and what's even more stunning, a feeling that I was protected.

And now, when she was down maturing, Frieza would cast me aside like common trash and take her. Or if he wanted, he would just cast me aside now and hide me away for the damn Games. It struck me then that I might never see her again, might never feel her small hands caressing me gently, lovingly, might never hold her close to me again.

And I might never be able to tell her the truth. That I liked her, and wanted her to like me, to never be afraid of the monster I was doomed to become, to just relish in the few beautiful moments that we'd had.

No!

He was going to give me away, and let those buffoons do whatever the hell they wanted with her. They'd crank the pressure up on her shower, they'd hit her, they'd mock her, and they'd leave her alone in the dark.

I was mentally unstable because of being alone in the dark for two months, not to mention the tortures I was currently being put through. But even mentally, she's so much weaker…she won't be able to take it…

No!

I screamed again, this time from pure rage.

No! They won't take her from me! I won't allow it! She's mine, and they can't have her, dammit!

Power licks at my skin, calling to me like an old forgotten friend. _Harness it, Vegeta. Take control. Take what you want, and give what he deserves._

I thrashed, new strength coursing through my veins. Frieza stopped what he was doing and watched me. I could feel the edges of the blindfold slowly start burning away as my Ki ignited. My collar beeped furiously before the red buzzer exploded from overheating. I barely felt it.

Bulma!

She wanted me safe. I'm sorry. I can't give her that. Not now. If I sit here, I'm screwed. If I fight, I'm screwed.

Jeez. I just can't win in this situation.

Well, fine. If I'm going back to her all beat up, then it'll be for a good damn reason.

I'm a bit surprised when my red cuffs come undone, and I'm allowed to punch Frieza's face. I felt him jerk to the side; my eyes squeezed shut to keep out burning embers.

Yes! Power! God, it feels incredible!

I realized then that I had pulled the cuffs apart with my bare hands; I hadn't been released.

Sweet.

I sent a tirade of punches to Frieza, my ears not straining in the slightest to track his movements. My nose twitches as I smelled a few drops of blood, and I grinned triumphantly at the fact that they didn't belong to me.

Then I came to my senses.

Hell yes, I was incredibly strong now. My power level was far above Zarbon's; I was at least at 50,000 by now. But I also knew that I'd never seen Frieza at full power. I shouldn't...I can't be hurting him. Not really. Nonetheless, it feels amazing to be able to hit him, to catch him off guard and beat the shit out of him, but still…that's my point. He hates being hit. AND I made him bleed? He should have ripped my head off by now.

So why wasn't he fighting back?

Shit.

I jumped up and leapt to my left, knowing that behind me was nothing but a wall. I tucked my arms underneath me and rolled to my feet, whirling to face where I could still sense him sitting on the floor.

I snarled and yanked my lopsided pants back onto my waist. Filthy disgusting bastard.

I tensed as I sensed him rising and coming nearer. A growl rose from my throat.

"Get away," I hissed. I reached up to take the burning blindfold from my face, but a purple claw beat me to it.

Furious eyes laced with murderous intent stared back at me. I shivered inwardly, but stood my ground. If he killed me, then fine, let him. I'd only come back to haunt him in his sleep until he let her go.

"You know something, monkey brat?" he hissed. "I don't think I like it when you're screaming someone else's name while I'm trying to have my fun with you. It ruins the moment."

Wha–?

He smirks, leaning closer. "You didn't even realize you were doing it, did you? You were crying 'Bulma, Bulma!'. If I didn't know any better, it'd say that was a woman's name. Who have you been screwing around with, Vegeta?"

Oh, shit.

I felt all the color leave my face, and my body broke out in a cold sweat, but I stayed silent.

Frieza's hand shot out, slamming me into the wall.

"I'd like to know if my favorite whore is getting satisfied some other way, monkey," Frieza spat. "Now, who have you been screwing with?"

He's choking me now. Idiot. Like I can answer him if I can't breathe.

As if reading my thoughts, his grip loosens. "Tell me right now, before I wring your scrawny neck."

What. The. Fuck. My neck is _not_ scrawny, dammit!

As if to prove his point, he cuts of my air again, and punches me in the stomach, dropping me to the floor in the process.

My arms automatically wrap around my middle, and I spit out a mouthful of blood. Frieza picks me up by the hair and slams me into the wall again. I choke, and he glares at me, wiping a drop of blood from his face.

"Who. Have. You. Been. Fucking."

It occurs to me that he never asked Bulma her name.

"No one!" I gasp.

SLAM!

"I don't believe you."

"I swear, I'm not –"

SLAM!

"I still don't believe you."

My head is pounding, the pain increasing with each heavy blow. "I swear," I rasped. "I swear, I haven't touched her. I swear it."

He smiles then, the sickening phony smirk crawling back onto his face. "There's a good lad. Now, who is she?"

Silence.

SLAM!

"I will kill you and every blasted female on the entire damn base if you don't answer me."

Dammit.

"My cellmate!" I cried as my air supply was vanquished for about the 7th time that day.

If he had eyebrows he would have raised them.

Damn, he's ugly.

"The little blue haired female I sent to stay in your cell block?" he squeezes my neck tighter.

"Yes!" I panted. "I haven't touched her, I swear it!"

Frieza contemplated this. "Well," he said, "I suppose I believe you. You've never been one to lie before. But I'm truly curious; what made you call her name?"

I freaking hate it when he toys with me. It grates on my nerves.

"Sire?" Zarbon says, stepping back into the room. Never thought I'd say this, but thank God he's here.

The ugly pink lizard sighed, releasing me. I fell to the floor with a heavy thud, gasping for breath.

Dear god, what have I done? He'll kill her. He'll kill us both.

"Dedoria said a female wishes to speak to you. She says it's of utmost importance."

Frieza slid his scouter on his head and slunk back to his throne. "What is it?...Prisoner #2453? Interesting. Put her on." A long pause. "Hello, Little One. Yes, he's going to be in the Games, as a prize. I'm giving him to whoever wins for a whole 6 months."

My body trembles slightly, from his words or exhaustion, I don't know.

"Really? Well, I suppose I can put you in our weakest bracket. We always divide them into many sections; after all, if it was all for one, we'd all know who would win!...You truly think you are capable of such things?...Very well. Since your power level is so pathetic, I will allow this, if only because I want you alive for later. Understand?...Wonderful. You have two months. I will send Zarbon to get you."

Beep. Click. The sounds of a scouter are so familiar to me.

"Zarbon, get another collar on the boy."

Stupid lizard already had one ready. Footsteps sounded, and a new collar clamped onto my neck before I had a chance to move. Immediately, the red cuffs appeared again, and I was bound.

"Take him back to his cell. And bring me back that prisoner while you're at it."

I can tell Zarbon is still irked by his fetching duties. Sad for him, arrogant bastard.

My mind is still a jumble of thoughts. I barely notice when Zarbon blindfolds me again, or when I feel my still bare feet touch the filthy ground after we land.

* * *

><p>Bulma sucked in her breath. It wasn't the wisest plan, but hell, it would do something. She could do this. She was fully capable.<p>

She jumped with a start as Zarbon opened the door and threw Vegeta in. A strangled grunt escaped his lips.

And he surprised her again.

Vegeta scrambled to his feet (or his knees, anyway) and darted over to her. Just as she blinked, she felt his muscled arms encasing her waist, and he buried his face in her abdomen.

Quickly getting over her shock, her patted his hair comfortingly. Ever since Vegeta had started sharing his Ki with her to heal her voice, her senses had become much sharper. She smelled a foul odor on him, like someone utterly filthy had rubbed themselves over his skin. She noticed he was still without a shirt, since that very garment had been in her lap moments before, and draped it over his shivering form.

Damn that Ice-jin bastard. Damn him to hell.

She looked up at Zarbon expectantly, giving him a mental order with her glare that Vegeta couldn't hear.

"You have five minutes," the blue lizard growled, slamming the door.

Vegeta flinched at the sound, pulling her tighter. Bulma wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers through the kinks in her black mane, her other hand running gently along his sore tail. He whimpered into what was left of her too small shirt, his tears soaking into her ivory skin. He sighed at her touch, relief washing through him.

Never before had he shown this much vulnerability to her. And that only made what she had to do even worse.

**Shh…it's okay, Vegeta. Everything's going to be okay. You'll see.**

"I hate his ugly lizard ass," the Saiyan whispered.

**I know. Shh. I know. **

She took his face in her small hands and drew him up to her own, looking him in the eye.

He looked so defeated.

Dammit.

Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as she could possibly get. His arms found their way around her waist again, his chest rising and falling slowly as he inhaled her scent.

'I'm sorry. I told him about you…I didn't mean to,' he thought.

**It's okay. He would have found out anyway. **

He pulled back ever so slightly, confused. "What?"

Bulma's eyes brimmed with tears. She wiped a drop of blood from his lip and pulled him closer again.

_Oh, Vegeta,_ she thought to herself. _What am I going to do with you? _

He shivered, and she pulled his shirt tighter around him, but he made no move to put it on.

_Vegeta, I'm so sorry. I swear, I only did this for you._

"What did you mean, Little One?" he asked, his deep voice barely above a whisper.

She took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, gently entwining her fingers in his hair as she took her turn breathing in his scent.

**No one is going to win you at that tournament, Vegeta. Not Frieza's men, and not Cooler's. I will win you, and then we can train, and get stronger so we can escape, just like always.**

"What?" he breathed softly into her neck.

Never in her entire life had Bulma Briefs held anyone tighter.

**Vegeta, I'm going to win the Weaponries Division. I've entered the Games.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My goodness that took me a long time. But I'm happy.**

**And sleepy. Night!**

**REVIEWS**

**~KimiruMai**


	6. Strengthen Your Arms

**A/N: WOAAAAAAAAH LOSTA REVIEWSS! ME LIKEY!  
>LOL.<strong>

**Firestorm1991: LOL hope I haven't scarred you for life XD**

**Somnialunae: Ohhh stop! You are totally feeding my ego and it's not healthy for egotisticalist like me XD (YES I just made that word up; I'm that good XD)**

**XDarkAngelOfLoveX: LOLZ I'm sorry I made you cry XD I almost cried too. Sometimes (yes I am a nerd) I read my own stuff and I'm like, damn this is good, who wrote this? Then I'm like…oh, me. HAHA jk XD. **

**Hieisdragonfly69: lol don't you just love badass girls? Lol, I'm a feminist. **

**Buu: AWESOMENESS! CONGRADULATIONS! I knew someone would ask that question! Kudos! LOL I'm getting to that in this chappie. I was like…someone's going to ask…somebody be clever enough to ask…HAHA nice!**

**Saiyanwarrior23: OMGESS HAPPY BIRTHDAY! LOL Everyone say happy bday to Saiyanwarrior23!**

**Hyperpink4; sweetgilda; sofy2011; preciousjade76; Kayurak; kryptoniteuzumaki; Star870; girl on fire; pallyndrome; jojocircis: YAY! I'm so glad you guys liked it so much. You're reviews are constantly inspiring me to write more for this story, guess that's why I haven't update Alter Ego or Comatose lately. When I get inspired there'll be more of those. Thank you all so much for supporting me!**

**The chapter title is from the Flyleaf song (which I DON'T OWN), called BEAUTIFUL BRIDE. Please listen to it :)  
><strong>

**This chappie is sort of a breather from the intense stuff, so just sit back, chillax...**

**AND BASK IN MY AWESOMENESS XD**

**Disclaimer: I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedeedeedeedee, there they are a'standing in the road. Big ones, small ones, none of 'em DBZ…**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Strengthen Your Arms<strong>

"_What?"_

He remembered her words perfectly, as if she'd just now whispered them in his ear.

"_What did you mean, Little One?"_

Those words stole his breath. It was not in the same way as when her lips had so gently caressed his cheek. It was better compared to his lack of oxygen while Frieza's slimy hand gripped mercilessly at his throat.

_I'm going to win the Weaponries Division. I've entered the Games._

A chocking sound ripped from his throat. He gasped, his body sagging with depression as he did so. His eyes were wide with the shock of a sudden cold; his fingers dug into his flesh of his biceps, his nails long ago bitten away.

How could she just leave him like that? How could she let them take her away?

"_The Games are coming up in two months. He wants you to be in them."_

To hell with that. Damn it all to hell.

He hadn't moved in two days. He knew that because there were now four plates of the disgusting prison food sitting in the corner beside the slot in the door, untouched.

His lips fell open, his breath coming in disbelieving gulps.

_I've entered the Games…_

* * *

><p><em>*flashback*<em>

A small pant of air pushed through his dry lips as he slowly pulled away from her to sit up.

"The…the Games?"

**Yes.**

"Do you want to die?"

For once, it hadn't been an insult. He whispered the words, his eyes wide with a unsubtle mix of shock, worry, betrayal.

**I'm not going to die. I'm going to win.**

"Someone could just up and crush you," he whispered. His eyes fell farther away from hers with each word, each syllable until they came to rest in her lap. His dark obsidians shook with utter disbelief, not seeing.

He felt her shoulders sag as he repeated the words he'd whispered into her hair the first night they hadn't been separated. Even remembering it, he could fell her tiny body against his, bringing him that calm that he only experienced with her.

His breathing became labored, but it nearly stopped short when he felt her hands on his shoulders.

**You don't belong to that bastard freak. I am going to prove it by winning you. And I'm not going to treat you like some common slave, either. You will be yours and yours alone, just like the Prince you are.**

"They'll kill you."

**No they won't. I'll be in the weakest bracket. **

"The lowest power level there will be 1000."

**But the best aim will win. Ki is not allowed. **

"It…it's not…it's a fight to the finish. Either they kill you, or you kill them."

A deep breath. **I know. **

He slipped into silence, his mind still not wrapping around it.

**If it is truly necessary, I will kill them. **

Silence.

**I can do it. I've got a freaky good aim. I know how to shoot; my dad taught me. Out of pure amusement, I think, Frieza is letting me use his lab to make my own gun; I've already got at least 18 different starting ideas. **

Nothing.

A sigh. **I will kill them. If being in here has taught me anything, it's that only the strong survive. I don't care if it leaves me scarred for the rest of my life, I **_**will**_** fight to survive. No way in hell am I going down at 13 years of age. I'm the last human there is, and if I go out, I'm going out will one helluva bang.**

"Oh, shit," he whispered.

Her fingers found her way to his hair again, pulling him closer until the bridge of his nose was buried in her neck. He shook ever so slightly, and she tightened her grip on his dark spikes; for her own comfort or for his he didn't know, nor did he care.

**I'm not going to die. I'm going to win first fucking place, and I will claim you before anyone else can. **

"…I think I'm going to be sick."

**I **_**will**_** kill for you, Vegeta. **

Damn. Damn it all to hell.

What had he done? He'd had a beautiful, pure angel in his hands to cradle and treasure; his one and only friend, the one person in his life that was completely innocent of the sins that haunted his nightmares.

And he'd turned her into a willing killer.

"What have I done?"

**You shut up right now. You did nothing. This is Frieza's doing and you know it. Now stop being a pansy and act like a man.**

He almost laughed.

"I thought I was a boy."

He could practically hear the smile creeping onto her face.

**You're a teenager.**

He smiled into her ivory skin, relishing in her scent.

**I'll be back in two months,** she said softly.

His body jerked, horror seeping into the tirade of emotions he didn't know he possessed.

Months…?

Two?

Damn?

Months?

Well, of course. That was when The Games started.

It would be like going back in time. To before she came. To the day after his father was brutally murdered. To the day that he'd barely had enough time to rip the Royal medallion from the Saiyan King's neck, the only thing he had left as a reminder of his family.

Two long months of darkness, dim lights that strained even his keen eyes, two months of utter solitude and loneliness. Except, it wouldn't be like going back in time. Because this time he had another loss; this time, the feeling was not a fresh wound, but a blade to old scars.

"You know," he said, "if you hadn't ever come, I think I could have handled it. Those first two months…They were horrible. But I was getting used to it; I could have taken it, before you came. Did you know, you shattered my self-preservation? I could have dogged it out like a man, like a warrior, and then, you came and ruined it all. Look at me. I'm pathetic, cowering all over a woman."

**Oh, Vegeta.**

She rocked back and forth on her heels, and he rocked with her, his arms winding around her neck, his tail looping around her arm.

**You're only 14. You've been put through immeasurable amounts of hell, and you're still alive. A few breakdowns doesn't make you any less of a soldier, any less of a Prince. Everyone has to just let go and cry sometimes. Otherwise, souls start to break from the pressure. You're a Warrior if I ever saw one, and damn strong one too. Hell, you even whipped my ass into shape. Look at me, Sensei! I'm strong, and capable. I'm stronger than grown men on my planet. That's frigging incredible, and it's all because of you. **

"You humans are utter weaklings," he muttered. Interesting. She called him Sensei.

**Jerk. **

Never mind.

"Flattery –"

"**Will get you nowhere**,"they finished together.

He chuckled softly, then frowned. He pulled back again, his dark eyes searching her blue ones. "Two months, Little One?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

**You okay?**

"No…no, I'm not."

…**Yeah, I forgot you were always a mentally unstable lunatic.**

"They have doctors for that, you know; talking about yourself and such. Now, how many voices are in your head?"

She smirked.

**Five. **

Vegeta blinked. It had been a feeble attempt at an immature joke, not a literal question.

**See, there's Me. The solid core of the thought process; the one that states exactly what it wants and exactly how it plans to get it. **

She patted her right shoulder. **Then there's my angel, which I have dubbed 'Logic'. Logic tells me whether or not I'm being stupid. **

She patted her left. **The third voice is my demon, named 'Badass'. She tells me when something immoral I'm thinking or doing is the only option. I thought about calling her 'Senseless', but that would be silly, because she wins the arguments sometimes, now being one of them. **

A small smile played with the corner of her lips. **The fourth voice is the indifferent bastard who doesn't give a shit about anything, whom I have named 'Thoughtless'. Thoughtless sometimes likes to put in helpful hints that only complicate things, commonly known by some people as 'Panic'. Sometimes Thoughtless will tell you that there's not a fucking thing you can do about something, and you just have to accept it.**

**And then there's you. **

**My Saiyan Prince, Vegeta. **

Her lips turned up in a full smile at the expression on his face. He stared at her blankly for a second, his mouth agape.

Then…"You really have lost your mind."

She laughed silently. **Maybe so, but I think everyone has these voices. It's where the phrase 'debating with yourself' comes into play. Mental instability only comes when 'Hopeless' and 'Fear' start their whispers. **

He fell into silence again.

She would be completely unprotected. He wouldn't be there to kick Zarbon's ass if he came a little too close, he wouldn't be there to shield her from the violence, from the disgust that was his life, from the unfathomable horrors she would no doubt see. She would be utterly defenseless, the only thing that would keep her alive being the fact that she was Frieza's waiting whore.

His hackles rose at the thought, his sharp canines snapping as a vicious snarl ripped from his throat.

A gentle hand on his tail turned the snarl into a soft purr of peaceful content.

**If you want to break something, do it after I'm gone. I only like seeing you mad when you're beating the shit out of someone. **

He chuckled. "Feeling violent today, Little One?"

**Those bastards won't stand a chance. As amazing as I was when I was younger, and with two months straight to practice and train, that tournament will be a breeze.**

He frowned again. "I don't –"

**Look, I'm not psyched about killing people either. But it's either kill them or let them take you, and I'm really not putting up with that last option. **

Vegeta sighed, flicking her nose with his tail and taking her blue tresses in his hand.

"Angels don't deserve to be tainted with death."

**And demons don't deserve to be graced with pleasure. **

He hesitated, bringing the silken strands to his face, breathing in the scent of căpşune berries.

"I…I think I'll miss you, Bulma."

She looked shocked that he used her name, instead of his usual pet designations for her. Then she scoffed.

**You **_**think**_**? Hmph. **

His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and he shot forward, nipping her ear and withdrawing again, all in about two seconds. Vegeta grinned slightly as he felt her pulse leap.

**You royal pain in the ass, you did that on purpose. **

"Maybe."

She sighed, leaning forward until their foreheads touched; just like the day they'd first met. Her cerulean eyes rose to meet his charcoal orbs, neither of them hiding anything, their emotions now completely in check.

She let out a delicate breath again, closing her eyes slowly before she opened them, peering at him from behind blue lashes.

**I'll miss you too, you overgrown ball of fuzz. **

The two closed their eyes, not thinking, not speaking.

Just breathing.

The door opened, and Zarbon's shadow appeared on the wall. Vegeta hissed, jumping into a defensive crouch.

"Time's up," Zarbon snapped. "Move it girl."

A masculine scream of rage echoed in the cell. The blue lizard used the same words when he dragged Vegeta to Frieza every time. Move it, weakling. Move it, boy. Move it, monkey. Move it.

Move it, girl.

He felt his eyes lighting up with something fierce and primal, Saiyan born possessiveness welling in his chest. His fingers curled into tight fist, his lips pulled back over his sharp teeth in a snarl. His tail lashed back and forth angrily behind him, his fur ruffling and bristling with rage.

**Vegeta. I'll be okay. **

He glanced back at her, taking in her determined features, and the small look of fear that she was hiding. She dipped her head at his intense gaze and started for the door.

He wasn't sure what caught her first, his tail or his hand. Both clamped onto her arm, pulling her back.

Her eyes filled with sad tears, misery now showing freely. **Vegeta,** she said gently. **You have to let go. **

"Never," he growled.

Zarbon's knee connected with his stomach, and just as he doubled over, the lizard's hand smashed into the base of his skull. The blow should have knocked him out, but instead he merely crumpled to the floor in a daze.

Lucky shot.

**Vegeta!** Bulma darted to his side, only for her shirt to be caught by the tall alien, a look of annoyance laced into his soft blue features.

"I grow so tired of these petty sentiments," Zarbon said. "Let's go, little whore."

**Call me that again and you'll be the first one I shoot in that damn arena,** she snapped angrily.

"Like those worthless toys could hurt me."

**You try saying that again when you see the gun I'm going to build. It'll go through the Big Man himself.**

"Oh, _please_."

Vegeta lifted his head as Zarbon pulled her out of the door, and she glanced back at him surprise latched onto her face as she realized his medallion was somehow around her neck. The steel door slammed shut just as she witnessed the last spark of fire fade from his charcoal eyes.

_*end flashback*_

* * *

><p><strong>SNAP OUT OF IT, YOU IDIOT! Eat your damn food and train! You think you'll get any closer to escape by sitting on your ass?<strong>

A new spark flamed in his eyes as he jolted out of the comatose state he'd been in.

"Bulma?" he called.

Silence.

'Little One?' he called in his mind.

Nothing.

"Bulma!" he yelled.

Just the echoes of his shout answered him.

Damn. He'd lost it after two days. That was fast.

He stood to his feet, wincing as his sore muscles kinked.

**That's what you get when you sit on your ass for 48 hours straight. **

He whirled, his eyes scanning the darkness. He could already tell from the lack of a Ki presence that no one was there.

Oh.

He suddenly realized that it wasn't Bulma's voice he was hearing. It was merely a piece of his conscious, which Logic had molded to sound like her, so it could wake him.

He ate his food quickly, suddenly noting how hungry he was. His stomach growled even as he scarfed down the largest meal he'd had in 3 years, his swift hands making sure to get every crumb in his mouth, all the while still dining with the posture of Royalty.

He stood up and stretched, grunting as he popped his shoulders and threw a few warm-up punches at an imaginary opponent named Zarbon, determination gracing his sharp features. Fire blazed in his dark eyes once again, his muscles relishing at their long denied use.

**There, now doesn't that feel better, you careless idiot?**

Vegeta paused mid-swing, wondering what it meant about his mental stability to have a little woman's voice as his conscious.

Well, couldn't be good, whatever it was.

"Shut up, Badass," he said, and threw another punch.

* * *

><p>Bulma made a quick adjustment, setting her tools on the table before she aimed her gun and fired.<p>

Bull's eye.

**Yes!** She cried.

She sent the target back a couple hundred paces, aiming again.

Bull's eye.

The gun was of her own design; it was shaped exactly like a Glock on Earth, but it did so much more. The gun was powered by Ki bullets, given to her so she could build her weapons. However, she also incorporated an electricity fused bullet; you'd be amazed at what a little electricity mixed with Ki could do. Other bullets she handmade from scraps of metal she randomly found, also infusing these with Ki. Worked like a charm. She had a sniper slung across her back as well, and at her belt there was a 8 inch dagger….also infused with Ki.

Ki could do wonderful things to tech.

She reached for the controls, delighted in feeling technology in her hands again. Despite her three years without practice, her aim hadn't been damaged in the slightest; some talents people are just born with.

"What are you doing, Little One?"

Bulma turned around slowly, her gun still posed to shoot. Her blue eyes flashed as they locked on to the pink skinned Ice-jin, dressed in delicate armor, that stared back at her.

* * *

><p><em>*flashback* <em>

It hadn't been hard to convince a passing Dedoria to let her use his scouter. All she had to do was promise him a quick…session…when she came of age after Frieza was done with her. After all, how many soldiers would be able to say they'd had sex with one of Frieza's own whores, and without participating in the Games to get such a privilege? And since Dedoria was so high up on the social ladder, getting through to the Tyrant had been no trouble at all.

Leaving Vegeta like that had killed her. She still felt a dull ache in her chest that had started when she saw the loss in his eyes, the beautiful fire she had so long admired diminishing into nothing.

He could be strong. He had to be. And so did she.

Bulma was taken to Frieza immediately upon their landing. Once again, Zarbon was stunned by Frieza's lack of interest.

"She's still too little," the tyrant said nonchalantly. "A few more years. Go show her to her room, and have someone show her around the lab. I'd like her to survive this, though it isn't likely. But, if she puts up a good fight, it will still be amusing to watch her die. So, she must have excellent weapons."

He sneered down at her, and she shivered under the murderous gaze.

"Do be careful about this, Little One," he said. "I wouldn't want my little bitch-in-waiting to be harmed over some silly monkey, now would I? That just takes the fun out of things. Plus, I've been waiting for quite some time now, and I do hate to be disappointed after I've put in so much patience."

She swallowed, silently rejoicing as Zarbon dumped her in her room.

It was small, with just enough space for a twin sized bed and two dressers. The bathroom wasn't any nicer; imagine a teeny hotel room for cheap prices, and this would be it.

She showered, relishing in the fact that the water had a pressure knob. She turned it as gently as it would go, sighing in relief as she washed her hair with shampoo for the first time in three years. After wards, she put on the slaves dress she'd been given, and plopped into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, Zarbon dumped her in a mini lab. It was secluded from the main one, but close enough that she could quickly walk in to get something. She was introduced as Frieza's whore, and the second Zarbon announced this, all beady eyes that had been raking through her suddenly averted themselves.

Ah, solitude.

She always felt jumpy on this ship. You never knew when someone might attack you. Granted, Frieza's claim gave her and EXTREMELY low chance of being touched, but still…

She worked late into what she figured was night, finishing the blue print of her first gun. She would build it the next day.

Bulma woke early, showering again (and as often as she possibly could) before heading to the lab. She gathered her needed materials, and began.

Four hours later, she was startled by the opening of her lab door. She turned around and saw a tall, sleek figure standing in the doorway.

Crap.

She didn't recognize this person. That meant they wouldn't know who she was.

THAT meant they didn't know about Frieza's claim.

**Who are you?** Bulma demanded.

A pause. "Well, that's impressive. I don't know that many mutes who can use telepathy. Are you a mind reader too?"

The blue haired teen blinked. The voice wasn't malicious at all; hell, it sounded like one of her Chikyuu friends talking to her.

**No,** she answered. **I can only project thoughts and absorb the thoughts that are projected at me.**

"Interesting," the shape said. The voice was feminine, but that didn't mean much here. "I've honestly never heard of that before."

_Saiyans can do it, _Bulma thought to herself.

"Are you going to play in the Games?"

Well, she was 13 years old, dressed like the prisoner she was, and working on a gun. So…

**Yes.**

A sigh. "Such ridiculous events. I don't understand why my brothers engage in them. No one gives a shit about whose whores are the best. Jeez. Their competitiveness is maddening, you know?"

Shit. And Ice-jin. And a relative of Frieza, to boot.

**Who are you?** Bulma asked again.

The shape's illuminate violet eyes blinked. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry! Geez, my mind just runs right away when I start talking. I guess because there aren't many girls on this ship that aren't warriors or whores. My name is Shiver, Princess of the Cold Empire."

Joy.

Blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. **What do you want with me?**

"Oh, nothing. My brother said one of his whores was actually playing in the Games, so I was curious. Why are you entering, anyway?"

A hard scowl formed on Bulma's lips, which she's finally gotten soft again thanks to feminine products in her room. Spare suites came with nearly _everything._

The pretty voice snickered. "My, what a scowl! I'm surprised you haven't been raped already, even with my brother's claim. I swear, the men here have no self-control."

Did the universe really have to prove Vegeta right about **everything**?

"So?"

The young scientist blinked, then scowled again. **I want to win a person. **

"Any person in particular, or are you just desperate?"

Bulma hissed. **A particular person, thank you!**

"Ooh, is it a secret? I just love secrets! Do tell me." The Ice-jin – Shiver – pranced into the room gleefully.

She was taller than Frieza, and as Bulma would later come to know, a bit shorter than Cooler. Bulma's head only went to Shiver's collar bone. Her skin, like Frieza's, was tinted a soft pink, and but was completely smooth. She had no scales, or horns, just a smooth, sleek figure with a long tail that was the trademark of the Ice-jin culture. She was glossier than Frieza, with smooth domes on top of her head and shoulders. Bulma would also come to find out that this is what a final form of the Changeling process looked like.

"So, spill it! Is it a family member? A friend? What's its name? I'm sure I know who it is; I know all of my brothers' whores, and trust me, that's an amazing feat."

What harm could it be? Frieza already knew why she was entering.

**His name is Vegeta. He's my best friend. **

Shiver's eyes bugged. "Vegeta? _The _Vegeta? As in, Prince Vegeta, the Saiyan?"

No, Prince Vegeta the circus clown. **Yes, the Saiyan.**

"Wow," Shiver said. "Impressive! Is he your mate?"

Bulma blushed, turning back to her blueprints. **No! Of course not! He's my cellmate, and my friend. He gets tortured enough as it is; I just wanted him to be safe. So I'm going to win the Weaponries Division and chose him as my prize.**

"He must be something special."

**Yes. **

Wait.

She'd just said that Vegeta was tortured, and Shiver wasn't retaliating? After all, it was her brother that was torturing the fallen Prince, and she wasn't even going to say that he should suck it up and deal with it?

She turned back to look at the Ice-jin, genuinely curious. **Aren't you – **

"I swear, my brothers are such bastards. All that power has gone completely to their heads."

Ah, so that was it. She hated Frieza too. Didn't everyone?

"Can I see?"

Bulma blinked out of her thoughts. **See?**

"Yeah, you know, why you want to save him and all."

Oh, Vegeta. **What are you talking about? **

"If you let me, I can read your thoughts."

The blue haired fighter tensed visibly. If there was anything she had learned in the past three years, it was to never trust anyone on that blasted base, or this blasted ship.

_Don't worry, Bulma. You can trust her._

She blinked at the strange scratchy voice that came seemingly from nowhere.

_Who are you? _She asked suspiciously.

The voice chuckled, and Bulma saw a flash of what looking like the lower half of a face, plump blue cheeks with cat-like whiskers smiling warmly at her.

_A friend. _

Can you really blame her for not trusting? No one but Vegeta had given her a reason to trust any being ever again. This Ice-jin seemed friendly enough, but…

She knew without a doubt that the blue faced person she'd seen could be trusted. She didn't know how exactly, but she had a gut feeling that it wasn't necessary to critique her advice-giver.

However, she wasn't sure she wanted to share Vegeta. Especially with Frieza's baby sister.

"Aww, c'mon," Shiver complained. "It's not like I'm going to tell anybody."

Bulma scowled, still not certain. Shiver laughed a twinkly laugh that sounded like clinking icicles. "There's that scowl again! You know, I've only seen Vegeta a few times myself, when that lizard Zarbon was dragging him across the floor to my brother's room. He always scowled just like that. He was always blindfolded, but I swear, he was glaring at me. By the Five Kais above, his jaw was clenched like someone was murdering his lover. You should have seen it. Well, I guess you have seen it already, but eh. Gosh, his lips were pressed in the hardest scowl I've ever seen, and you scowl just like he does."

Bulma hadn't known that. **I do?**

"Yep! I think that's what attracted my brother to him anyway. Frieza loves breaking his toys and casting them aside. He's got issues, if you ask me. My whole damn family relishes in seeing people broken. It's stupid. Anyway, that's why he likes Vegeta so much. He can't break him. Vegeta has given him the longest ride of his life, and that's why he keeps taking him."

Bulma hissed viciously, rage akin to that of her Saiyan Prince's flowing through her body, her Ki flaming in a small blue flame on her skin. Well. Now she was hissing. There was another animalistic trait she'd picked up from the Prince. Her hand instinctively clasps around Vegeta's medallion; she still had no idea how he'd gotten it around her neck. It was his most prized possession; he'd never taken it off once, not in all the time she'd known him. And yet, he'd given it to her. **Vegeta hasn't come any damn near close to giving him shit! Frieza takes him by force and by force alone. He fucking rapes him, do you get it? It's his fault that Vegeta suffers like this! You know why his fucking unbreakable? Because he's got the strongest damn pride I've ever seen, that's what! He's got his pride, he's got his Royalty, he's got his spirit, and by Kami, he's got me. So if you think your homo brother has a fucking **_**chance**_** of breaking him, you are sorely mistaken!**

Too late she realized she'd been screaming bloody murder at the Princess. Thank God only the two present could hear it.

But either way, she was screwed.

But you know what? She didn't care. She'd been aching to spit the words at someone, and she'd finally been able to say them. The only thing missing was the feel of the acid words on her tongue, and the proud smirk on Vegeta's face that she knew he would've had he seen her furious display.

Shiver stared at her for a second, then she smiled.

_Smiled._

_Genuinely.  
><em>

"Did you hit your head when you were a kid? I did, and it hurt like fucking hell. But when I woke up, I didn't feel like hurting people anymore. It was nice. It still makes me sick to be around my brothers, but hey, it's better than having what little part of a soul a person has left wither away for the rest of their lives. I know everyone has that little sliver even after they commit the worst of crimes, and that's why so many rulers in history have lost their freaking minds. I'm glad you haven't been infected with such a disease; it's so rare that I find someone who hasn't."

Wha-?

Bulma stared at her wide eyed for a minute, then her eyes narrowed suspiciously again.

**You aren't like other Ice-jins, are you?**

"Naaah. Daddy doesn't like me out in public since I 'went soft' as he says, but I'm still his little girl. Do you think that makes me spoiled? I'm the favorite, I mean, since I'm his only daughter, but still…haha, the boys don't know I've got them beat. You know, they're only my half-brothers."

A dainty blue eyebrow rose significantly.

"Yep! See, Frieza and Cooler are brothers by blood. Their mother was the Queen herself; they were the products of an arranged marriage. But then, my mother came. Daddy says she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was tall, beautiful, sleek; fierce. She could kill instantly without remorse, and yet she was as gentle as a moon flower. She never killed unless it was absolutely necessary. Daddy says she had an angelic aura about her, and for once in his life, he didn't feel the need to conquer. Thus, I was conceived. Well, the Queen was royally pissed off when she found out after I was born, pardon the pun. They fought, and she killed my mother. I never got to meet her. Father was so angry. She had killed his lover, the only person in the world that he genuinely belonged with, his soul mate. And she was about to kill me, before my father completely lost it and snapped her neck." She smiled softly then. "My father tells me this story all the time. He says that after the Queen's body fell, he picked me up and looked at me. I was just big enough to fit in one of his hands, he says. He looked at me and cried his first tears, remembering my mother. They'd never chosen a name. Father told me that when they found out she was pregnant, the first thing Mother told him was that she didn't want to name me until the second I was born. She said that the child of a true, unbreakable mate-ship would have a perfect name that could only come upon sight. So, when my father looked at me, he smiled through his tears, and he named me Shiver, for the fluttery feeling he experienced in the pit of his stomach the first time he saw her."

Bulma was for once, more than quite literally, speechless.

An Ice-jin had fallen in love. The King of Ice-jins had a heart to give to someone. Incredible.

**My mother is dead too,** Bulma said softly. **Zarbon killed her when she wouldn't take him to bed, and he killed my father when he tried to stop him from raping her.**

Shiver hissed. "That bastard. I never liked him. He's always playing his little games with me, trying to get him to mate when him. Slimy disgusting frog."

Bulma smiled a little. **You know, I think I might like you. **

Shiver grinned. "Losta people do. I'm a pretty hard person to hate. So, can I see?"

Bulma stared for a minute, then she remembered the piece of conversation they'd had before Shiver went into her tirade of non-ending words.

**I suppose you can. **

Shiver looked delighted. "Really? Oh, that's great! As I said, Daddy doesn't like me being up and about, so I rarely get to see people, and most of the time when I do, they're all ugly. I so rarely have pretty friends before my stupid brothers snatch them up, the bastards. I guess they can't now, or at least, for a while, since you're going to be in the Games and all –"

**Are you going to look or what? I've got to get back to training.**

God, she was starting to sound like Vegeta too.

"Oh! Sorry, I babble when I get excited." The princess giggled. "It's Daddy's fault if you ask me. All his composure is positively maddening, and then you have Frieza and Cooler in their stupid feuds, all uptight, so I suppose I have to be the ground middle. Oh, damn, I'm doing it again. Here."

She stretched out her scaly hand towards Bulma, and the girl flinched visibly as the sharp claws on the Ice-jin's hand came closer.

"Oh, sorry. I just had them sharpened. Manicurist these days, I swear. He about chipped my pinky finger! I was pissed too. The man nearly peed his pants. I won't scratch you, I promise."

The cold fingers touched her forehead before Bulma could protest further. She gasps as she felt what seemed to be silver wisps of energy shifting through her mind, licking at her memories.

"Oh!"

Shiver jumped back as if her hand had been burned. Bulma blinked, the silver energy suddenly gone. **What's the matter with you? **she asked incredulously.

"I…oh wow, that was intense."

_**What**_** was?**

"Oh goodness, don't ask me to explain it! All I can say is that that was the strongest bond I've ever seen. My Kami, that was incomprehensible, hell."

Shiver's eyes had widened particularly when she saw the memory of Bulma's first 'shower'. No one she'd ever met had done a such courageous act in the name of someone else.

_Vegeta lets out a vicious snarl as the spurting water forces him back another foot. He now has to cross his arms in front of his face to reduce the pressure. One eye is shut with the effort of blocking and holding his ground at the same time._

_He cries out suddenly, this time from pain. There are now two hoses pounding mercilessly at him. His bare feet start slipping on the wet floor. A malicious roar erupts from his throat as his arms shoot out backwards towards her, his hands smashing themselves on the wall, catching himself just before his body smashes into hers. She jumps as his hands slam onto the metal on either side of her body, his fingers somehow putting smooth hand prints in the walls._

"I've never seen such devotion," Shiver breathed. "No wonder you want to save him. Goodness."

Bulma frowned a little and tweaked another feature on her gun. She held up her arm, pretending to aim, satisfied when her recently acquired scouter informed her that she'd locked onto her target perfectly.

"That's an impressive gun. Did you make it?"

**Yes. It only took me two days. **

"Nice! You must be one of those freaky geniuses."

**I am.**

Shiver smirked. "You know, you are an awful lot like him. Vegeta is publically known for his extreme confidence…and/or arrogance."

Bulma chuckled, just a little. **You're telling me. I've lived with him for three years. Never met such an arrogant ass.**

They laughed. "I suppose then," Shiver said mischievously, "you think his arrogance is attractive."

Bulma's cheeks darkened. **Why do you say that?**

"Because earlier you referred to such arrogance as Saiyan Pride."

**Hmph. **

Bulma gathered her things and relocated herself to her training room. It was enormous, full of moving targets and war robots to combat with. Each lab had one of these rooms to test newly made prototypes, and it would certainly come in hand during the next two months.

The blue-haired vixen suddenly realized that Shiver had followed her. She raised an eyebrow, fighting back an irritated glare. **Did you want something?**

Shiver blinked, then grinned. "You know what? I think you're the only person to ever backtalk me. I like it. It means that you have genuine respect for me, instead of respect for my title."

Well, Bulma wouldn't exactly call it respect, but hey.

"I always wanted a friend to argue with me. It makes relationships seem so much more interesting, don't you think? I mean, if my Mother hadn't argued the shit out of Daddy during her first royal meeting –"

**Um, don't really need to hear anymore, thanks. **

The Ice-jin chuckled. "Ooh, right. Anyway, don't you think that's true? Wouldn't the universe be so horribly boring without a few good arguments?"

Bulma tried to picture _not_ snapping witty comments at Vegeta, and him not snapping his own, no longer outwitting her as often as she did him. She couldn't.

**Yeah, I suppose. **

"Can I help?"

**With what?**

"Your training. I'm pretty good with weapons. I can help you. Hell, with me as your sensei, you'd be the best shooter at those Games for sure!"

Bulma once again felt suspicious. **I'm an awesome shot on my own, thanks. And you are not my sensei. Vegeta is.**

Shit.

She suddenly realized that if this Ice-jin was going to snitch on her, she'd just given her valuable ammo.

But…the voice said she could trust her…maybe.

"Really? Well, that makes sense. If you guys are going to escape, you can't be slowing him down."

This was officially the strangest alien she'd ever met.

**Look, if you are here to gather information to give to Frieza, just go ahead and fucking kill me. I don't have time for games. **

Shiver looked shocked. "Kill you? What for? Did you hear a word I said?"

Well, yes, she had, but that didn't mean much. She glared at the pink skinned alien, her jaw set firmly. **Yes, I heard you. But after a recent 'incident' with Frieza wanting to 'chat' and Vegeta coming back almost raped – **_**again**_** – I have a bit of trouble trusting what people say. **

The princess looked disappointed. "I'm sorry."

Sorry?

Shiver looked up, new determination in her eyes. "I hate those idiots. My father is a natural conqueror by heart, but when he conquers, he tears worlds apart quickly. He doesn't sit back and watch as he tortures them slowly. If he ends lives, he does it quickly and mercifully. Not them." She hissed. "Daddy becomes more and more like them as they get older. The longer they plan purges together, the more volatile he gets. I hate it."

**So you're okay with him conquering worlds then?** Bulma spat.

A glare stopped her in her tracks for a split second before the returned it.

"I do not approve of it, no. But Ice-jins are natural born conquerors, same as the Saiyans. Don't tell me your little pathetic human race hasn't done it either. It's the natural way of life. But if my father is going to do such things, he could at least do it quickly, so they don't have to suffer."

Silence rang in the room, louder than their now stilled argument. Then Shiver spoke again.

"They are turning him back into the monster he was before my Mother. She never killed unless someone was deliberately in her way. She never murdered the innocent. That's why he loved her; not because of her power or bloodlust, but because she had a true respect for life."

Her cold pink eyes stared into Bulma's blue ones, the two spitfires glaring at each other furiously. Sparking aura's lit up the room, and despite Bulma's small Ki, her blue flames were just as large as the princess's pink ones.

The next words spoken chilled the little warrior to the bone.

"I will help you win your friend. I will train you in the art of weapon related combat, and I will show you combat skills that no man can teach you, because they belong to women alone. All I ask in return…is that you help me kill the bastards I'm forced to call siblings."

Blue Ki sparked wildly with a mix of surprise and angry suspicion.

Bulma suddenly became aware of the flames licking at her skin, and she realized suddenly that her Ki had gone from its soft red color (which she'd discovered all humans had) to the blazing sky blue that matched Vegeta's.

Well, he'd been sharing his Ki with her for a while, but some part of her knew that his doing so couldn't have changed her natural Ki color. That wasn't how it worked.

_All I can say is that that was the strongest bond I've ever seen._

She'd free him. She'd do it, and they'd escape together, or die trying. That's all there was to it.

She looked Shiver in the eye, her own determination showing in her soft features. Then a genuine, beautiful smile graced her lips, one of which she'd only shown to one person in the last three years of her short life.

"Deal."

_*end flashback*_

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, Shiver.<br>**

"That's isn't an answer, silly!"

**Fine then. I'm training. What's it look like?**

"Like you're taking an impossibly long time to shoot. You've got to be able to aim and fire in a nanosecond. If you can't, you'll be killed."

**Hey, I've increased my speed a lot in the past two weeks! **

Sigh. "I know, Little One. But you still need to be faster."

Bulma's shoulders tensed visibly. **You know I don't like it when you call me that.**

Shiver frowned. "I'm sorry. I forgot that's his nickname for you. But you are kind of small, you know."

**No. You're just freakishly tall.**

"Not really. I'm standard height for most Ice-jins my age. Frieza is just stupidly short. Haha, he was so pissed when I outgrew him."

Bulma aimed and fired again, obliterating the moving target.

"I think you can crank up the speed of the targets a little," Shiver said.

**I guess.**

The princess turned a knob on the control panel, and the bots sped up significantly. Bulma's finger hovered above the trigger for a split second before she pushed the glock into rapid fire, obliterating that bot too.

"Good. Doesn't matter how many bullets you use, so long as they hit. But, you're doing something wrong."

Bulma blinked. It looked like she'd destroyed it. What was wrong with her methods?

Shiver took the gun from Bulma's head, and not even visibly pausing to aim, she quickly fired the gun with one hand, and a bot disintegrated in one shot.

**What the hell? **Bulma gaped.

Shiver looked at her, deadly seriousness sewn into her pretty pink eyes.

"Bulma, the gun will always have a rebound force, and the shot will always be catapulted upwards as a result. Just because you have an endless supply of bullets doesn't mean you can afford to squander them."

She stepped closer, looking the 13 year old in the eye.

"Every one of these matches will be to the death. If you want to keep your life and your Prince, you will have to kill them all with minimal damage to yourself. You will have taken 134 lives by time these Games are over."

The tiny scientist gone warrior swallowed. She'd been prepared for this, but it didn't make it any easier, having someone say the words.

Shiver took Bulma's wrist, turning her hand palm up so she could place the gun in the little teen's hand.

"When you aim to kill, you have to be perfectly precise, clean, and accurate."

Both of their hands gripped at the gun, each female knowing the cost of failure; the disposal of two lives and the preservation of three depended on the success of their missions.

"When you aim, aim for the neck. Aim for the neck, and you will shoot them in the head."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you guys so much for reading. **

**I made Shiver up, I hope you guys like her. It always bugged me that there wasn't ONE good Ice-jin. Sigh. **

**Anyway, REVIEW!**

**Gotta go study for a math test…**

**DON'T ASK because it is completely possible to study the steps on how to do a problem. **

**LOLZ I must be getting cranky from lack of sleep XD**

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	7. Purest Capability

**A/N: Woah….88 reviews and only six chatpers?**

**Hell yeah, I'm scary good XD Can't reply to them all though, sorry :(  
><strong>

**Hiesdragonfly69: Oh yay! Thank you, that is exactly what I was going for. **

**XDarkAngelOfLoveX: *HAPPY FACE* One good ass-kicking, coming up XD**

**baileedYDG: OMG YAY! I made a good OC!**

**TFSrules: LOL good one. Haha you make it sound like I'm controlling all of your minds.**

**FireStorm1991: Naaahh, we are way to badass to let a bunch of men rule our lives lol. I actually shoot a lot with my Dad, and I've got a good aim but I'm not very fast. Then again he's a hunter so it's better to be as patient as possible, so that's where I got the idea.**

**PrettyAle77: There will be a lot of POV in this chapter. I felt like the last one was a bit too stressful to put in POV because it enhances the reader's senses when you say "I" instead of letting them sympathize when you say "he". **

**XXxMudvayneGirlxXx: All these Ice puns! LOL I totally forgot about that when I wrote it XD my baby sister was watching The Lion King so lolz, but that was freaking hilarious. XD**

**Xamss: Yes, it was very hard for me to write, but I wanted to add an essence of horror into the story. **

**Preciousjade76: Excellent question…so EVERYBODY LISTEN UP!**

**Bulma could talk to Frieza because Dedoria relayed the message. Scouters as we all know can have multiple channels open, so she listened in a spare scouter and Dedoria told Frieza what she said. **

**All clear? Goodie. **

**By the way, while you are reading this, go on Youtube and look up Pride of a Warrior. Best Majin Vegeta AMV I've ever seen. Also, the song is called Yoredet, and it's Hebrew I think. Anyway, the song is different when I downloaded it from my Free Songs App on my Android phone, so only this video will do. **

**Also, listen to Breath by Breaking Benjamin while you read this. Seriously, put it on repeat. Just believe me when I tell you it accents the awesomeness of this chapter XD  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: People who come to sue me…what are you doing here, whatareyoudoinghere idon'towndbz no one summoned you! (Anyone see the Big Green King Vegeta video by ImmaVegeta on youtube? I swear, it's amazing how many ImmaVegeta videos a human being can watch in one sitting….)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Purest Capability<strong>

I opened my eyes and sat up. The ship was strangely quiet, everyone for once still asleep, still resting for the day ahead.

Hmph. Figures I would be awake.

I always wake up at 7 the morning, Standard Time. Like, seven on the dot. Normally it's from dreams; always, about him.

This time, I dreamt we were on Earth, in my mother's garden. Now, Mom had a freakishly large garden that she even kept pet dinosaurs in. I always called it 'the Wilderness Room' because it was just like a mini-jungle.

I dreamt that I saw Vegeta swinging through the trees, catching his tail on branches. He was smiling and laughing, his dark eyes dancing with absolute joy. His usual attire was gone, replaced by nothing but blue training shorts.

"_Come on, Little One! Come swing with me." _

"_I can't," I said. _

I always have my voice in my dreams. Go figure.

_He looks confused, and a bit hurt. "Why not?"_

"_I have to train for the Games. And besides, I can't climb like you can. I'm only human." _

_He smiles at me again, his sharp, pearly canines flashing. "Sure you can. And you aren't only human. You're Bulma." _

_I rolled my eyes. "No duh. But I am **a** human. And I have to train." _

"_Just come play for a little bit! You can swing. Remember that little trick I taught you? Have you practiced it?"_

"_Yes," I said. "I practiced. But I need to practice more. I have to win the Games, remember?" _

He never does.

_Ignoring my question, he cocks his head. He, along with the tree he's in, starts to get smaller, and I realize that distance is putting itself in between us, though neither of us seem to be moving. _

"_Okay. Well, when you're done, will you come back and swing with me?"_

_I open my mouth to say yes, but suddenly my voice is gone again. Vegeta is getting farther and farther away. I see my hands reaching out towards his image, but the farther I reach, the faster the distance increases. _

"_You will come back and play, won't you, Onna?"_

_Yes! Yes, I'll come back! I swear! Vegeta!_

_Kami, why can't he hear me? Why can't I speak? Why can't I answer him?_

"_Onna?"_

_Vegeta!_

"_Little One? Come back! Little One!" _

_Tears start pouring down my cheeks. My limbs suddenly feel horribly heavy, my hair knotted and ragged, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach. Every second without him, it grows worse. _

_I just barely see his flame of black hair and his furry brown tail before he vanishes from my sight completely. The landscape moves with him, as if I am running backwards at an incredible speed. The beautiful garden and clear skies turn to blue and green blurs, until the color fades completely to a dull grey. Just as it does, the edges of my vision turns black. The darkness stretches out to me, trying to swallow me whole. It offers something, something I can't really see just yet…_

_It's blood. _

_The darkness offers me blood. The essence of life. _

_Splat! Splat, splat, splat!_

_I watch in horror as 134 gallons of blood splatter to the ground, staining it an ugly red. I look up, and the beautiful tree Vegeta was perched on is suddenly in front of me, its bark stained with the metallic liquid. _

_Where is he? He's gone! _

_Oh, God, no…_

_The tree vanishes, and the darkness starts to swallow up the murky masterpiece it's created. It withdraws it's offer and replaces it with another. _

_Blood, and my Prince. _

_He's leaping from branch to branch again, his muscular body crouched and pulsing with power before he lengthens himself and launches off his recently acquired perch to another. He's so damn fast, but it's not enough. I'm moving away again, and I can do nothing to stop it. _

_The darkness is still behind him, licking at his heels as he flies through the trees. _

_Vegeta gains a sudden burst of speed, and suddenly he's upon me. His hand stretches out toward me, my own already waiting for his. We stretched out our arms, but it's not enough. Our fingers are just barely touching…_

_I've had this dream before. Normally, Vegeta is suddenly swallowed by the darkness, his cry of surprise ringing in my ears. The scene goes completely black, and Frieza's high pitched laughter echoes through the nothingness. _

_But this time, it's different. _

_Our fingertips meet, and Vegeta takes my hand, pulling me into his arms. I let out a small cry of shock. Vegeta twists his body so he's facing the opposite direction that he previously was, his grip on me tightening. His bare feet push off one last branch before the darkness is abruptly forced away, replaced by an endless, bright white. _

_Suddenly, he's sitting, with me in his lap. We're leaning against a wall, I realized. Vegeta's arms are around my shoulders and my waist, his tail curling around my wrist. His face is buried in my neck, and I shiver as he breathes in my scent. _

"_I missed you," he said softly. _

_My voice returns to me as my fingers curl into his, and I kiss his palm. I find myself leaning into his embrace, for once strangely calm at his touch._

"_I missed you too, fuzzball," I said. "I missed you, Vegeta." _

It's the first time I've woken in the morning to just sudden peacefulness. Normally I am awoken by my own screams. Is it healthy to miss a person this much?

With my tranquility comes solemnity. It's a deadly seriousness, not of mere thoughtfulness, but of gearing myself up for knowing what I have to do.

I climb out of bed, not bothering to shower right away. I know the soft water against my skin will make me lose my nerve that I still need a few more minutes to build up. My feet carry me to my biggest dresser. I reach out slowly, and suddenly my Glock is in my hands. I slide the maximum number of Ki-metalized bullets in the clip, holding the gun up in the air a little before I quickly push it into place. The clip makes a satisfying click as it sets itself. I grip it in my hands, my eyes roaming over the smooth metal features of my handcrafted weapon until they land on the Capsule Corp logo on the side.

I walked over to my small full length mirror on the wall, taking myself in. My hair was still disheveled, and my clothes were ruffled from restless sleep.

But that gun…

It looked so perfect in my hands. The personally constructed weapon truly looked like it belonged there. For once, I looked like a warrior, even if I was still nothing compared to the Saiyan Prince.

I knew this gun could kill him. I knew that. I made it that way on purpose. After all, if something could kill Vegeta, it could kill the weakest of Frieza's men easily.

For once in my life I felt powerful. And even though I wanted nothing to do with this power that resided in the cool metal against my palm, I embraced it. I had to, because I needed him. I needed Vegeta with all my being, and if this gun was going to get him for me, then I'd point the muzzle at anyone who dared to get in my way.

I had to…

Because today, the Games began.

* * *

><p>I miss her.<p>

I'm cold. I tried to move back to my cot nearly three or so days after she left, but it felt wrong to be sleeping in the place she normally did. So, I moved back to the one on the floor.

I didn't touch her blanket for the longest time; a month maybe after she was gone, I gave up and pulled it over me along with mine. My body temperature was always naturally hot, but for some reason, the cell has been significantly cooler since she left.

I thought that if I didn't touch things that smelled like her, I could forget. I could push her out of my mind and train as hard as I could with no distractions, no interruptions.

It didn't work. Her scent was on everything. The cots, the blankets, her favorite spots on the floor to sit on…

Me.

Even with the weekly bathing, her scent lingers on my skin. Every night, when I lie down, my hair stirs up the air near my face ever so slightly, and her scent is wafted into my nose.

Dammit. That girl is inescapable.

Guess I don't have to wait much longer. The Games are today.

I swear, if she dies, I'll fly up to Otherworld and kill her myself.

My body tenses at the thought. Sarcastic as it may be, I can't imagine laying a hand on her. Can't stand it.

I rise from my cot on the floor and start pacing. This isn't right. I shouldn't miss her this much. Hell, her well-being should be completely irrelevant to me.

But then…she entered these stupid Games for the sole reason of preventing me from being sold…

Why would she do that? We could be apart for six months. Maybe. If I came back emotionally scarred…well, so what? It would be better than her being dead. Did my sanity really hold that much value in her eyes? I just can't fathom why this would be the case, but it is.

Could I live without her if she died?

That cursed bond started all this. How did I get roped into such a calamity? A mental bond to a Saiyan elite means nothing. My mind is strong enough to handle nearly anything. I could snap our mental link like a twig if I wanted. Anyway, the bond was only to awaken her telepathic abilities. I did nothing to put her inside my mind; I merely opened the gateway to hers.

And yet…

Yet, we're still bonded in a way I couldn't have possibly imagined. Sure, three years with only one person for company could establish some form of connection, but you would think we would get bored of each other eventually.

That was another thing. I never got bored of her. Ever. She made this hell hole I lived in interesting. She made the darkness bearable. Her witty comments kept me on my toes, kept my mind sharp. For every time I ever outwitted her, she has returned the favor. I have never been able to debate about the most casual things with anyone before her.

My three years in this place should have hardened me. I should be a heartless monster by now, with no hopes, no dreams, except to get out and kill those who ever did me wrong. But every second I was in here with her, she softened me up. For every bit of coldness that collected in my heart, she put in twice as much warmth. It shouldn't be Saiyanly possible for her to do this to me, never mind humanly, by her standards.

Why can she do this to me?

A plate of food scrapes through the small slot and onto the stone floors a few feet from the entrance to our…my…cell. I sigh and stop my pacing. I know I must look like a caged _Naiyadonu_, but I honestly don't care. I feel like one, anyway.

I poke at my food a little, using the plastic fork to play with it before forcing it down my throat. For once in my life, I'm not hungry, but I know I will be later. However…

I am afraid that if I eat too much, I'll lose my breakfast, should something drastic happen…

No. She said she would win, and she's never lied to me before.

Even though I am fully aware that the truth behind her statement doesn't affect the results of the Games in any way, it's a nice thought. The fact that she staked her honor on all of this is more than enough for me.

I finish my food just as Zarbon opens the door. For once, it doesn't slam against the wall with forceful intent, just swings open.

Today has a lot of "for once"s, I see.

"It's time," Zarbon says. The silver rod is in his hand, like usual, but he doesn't need it. Not this time.

I stand and walk to him, ignoring the look of shock on his face. He barely has time to blindfold me before I'm out the door. The burning red cuffs appear on my wrist; I can't see them, but the heat against my flesh and the pull of my wrist could tell a blind man anything.

I don't struggle.

"What's the matter with you, monkey?" Zarbon demands, suddenly irritated.

I don't have to answer him. I really don't. He can't beat me for ignoring him. Even blind folded I could whop his ass. I don't have any clue what in Kami's name possessed me to answer.

Maybe I just need to say the words aloud.

"I want to see her."

Silence is my only reply. I'm surprised. I was expected some form of retaliations, some kind of degrading insult. But there is nothing.

Then…

"Don't take this wrong, monkey; I'm not trying to comfort you. I can't say I feel sorry for you, either. You deserve this, if you ask me. But just know this; that girl has been training her little ass off. She's ready."

Well. That was unexpected.

It pisses me off to no end that he's seen her progress and I have not. I couldn't even talk to her while she was away. Apparently bonds are hindered with two people are a light-year away from each other. I kind of miss hearing her snap at me, hearing her soft laughter at my comments, both sarcastic and witty. I miss teaching her katas, laughing when she fell, and feeling her pulse jump when I helped her up.

"I know she is," I said.

With her spirit, she couldn't be anything less.

* * *

><p>I breathed in slowly, scanning my competition. The 'locker room', I guess you could call it, was full of both women and men. I was a bit uncomfortable with this, but then, there were a couple women with huge boobs standing in the middle of the room, so I got to get dressed in peace. Shiver gave me some battle clothes. I asked her for a specific style of dress, and while they aren't my usual comfortable green tank top (small as it may be), I'm extremely pleased with them. Especially since they fit me perfectly.<p>

After I dressed, I made my way down the long hallway to stand at the entrance to the ring. At least a million people were in the stands, each one either cheering, booing, or arguing with one another. And the Games haven't even started yet.

I suddenly felt nervous.

"You okay?"

Damn!

I whirled, disappointed with myself. Vegeta had taught me better than this. I should have sensed her coming.

**Hey, Shiver.**

"Once again, not an answer."

I sighed, turning back to glance at the audience again. **There are so many people…**

"Of course. It's the Games. This is pretty much the only major event we have. I believe your people would call them 'Olympics'."

**Yes. But where I'm from, the Olympics offered gold and silver medals, not people.**

"True. But that is because the species and settings are different."

I swallowed a little. **I'm nervous.**

"Don't be. Just go out there and shoot."

**I will.**

"There are going to be roughly 30 matches today. If you're lucky, you might get a 'bye' and skip out on one. Your match is first, I think."

First?

**Oh god.**

"Shush. There are 134 people in your division. If I calculated right, there will be 131 total matches in all as the number of players start to diminish and people start to fight more than once. Some people will fight only one time, some twice, some three times, and so on. If you want to win, you have to fight at least 10 times. That's just a guess, it's impossible to tell exactly how many. But you will have to around kill ten people."

**You said I'd have to kill 134!**

"No, I said you would take their lives. If you kill their killers without having the drive or care that you are avenging them, their lives are on your hands. That's just how it works here."

**Oh, joy.**

"Hey, at least you don't have to spill nearly as much blood."

**Yeah.**

"You have to win ten matches. There aren't any loser brackets. You either win, or you die."

**I know. **

Shiver put a cold hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. With a flash of pain, I remembered that my mother would comfort me the same way, like when I got my first A– on a test, or when I was worried about cheer leading tryouts.

"You can do this, Bulma. You've got this. You can win."

I shook my head.

**No. I **_**will **_**win. I haven't got any other choice. I'm going to win, no sweat. That's all there is to it.**

Shiver smiled and gave me a quick hug. "Atta girl! I've got to go get announced with Daddy and my idiot brothers. Good luck; I'll be rooting for you!"

**You'd better,** I said, forcing a smile. Shiver laughed her twinkly laugh and danced away, waving at me before she disappeared around the corner.

Feeling suddenly alone, I turned back to the arena. They would call out the first fighters in a moment, after the Royal Family entered and the slaves were put on display.

Finally, I would get to see him.

I didn't have to wonder how in Kami's name I was chosen to fight first. The order of the fights was chosen at random among each bracket; for all I know, the highest elites could be fighting after me. Cruel fate just decided it would be nicer for me to go first.

Well, fine. Bring it.

I was ready.

* * *

><p>"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! PLEASE TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO THE ROYAL BALCONY, AND JOIN ME IN WELCOMING THE THREE LORDS AND LADY, THE RULERS OF THE UNIVERSE, THE <em>COLDS<em>!"

The crowd went wild at the announcers words, from actual adoration or from fear of being blasted for their incompetence, no one knows.

"ENTER, PRINCE COOLER AND PRINCE FRIEZA!"

More wild cries.

Bulma watched in awe as the two brothers responsible for this mayhem stepped onto the balcony. She had never seen Cooler. He rested in his first form, because Ice-jins only attended such events in their sleekest form. Cooler had always thought he had one up on his brother, because he could be perfectly sleek and beautiful (or, so he thought) without having to power up. Frieza, however, was what surprised her.

She knew that Shiver always resided in her Fourth Form. Apparently the female Ice-jin thought she wasn't pretty in her First Form, and as far as she was concerned, being in Fourth all the time was no different from other aliens putting on makeup. She was right, of course.

Frieza though, had always been in his base form because he said he couldn't control his Fourth.

Bullshit. Bulma knew he was in perfect control; he was exhibiting it right now. Perhaps he would be more malicious, but that was expected. Bulma was feeling exceptionally malicious right now herself simply because she had a gun in her hand, but that didn't mean she couldn't control her aim.

Frieza's Fourth was just like Shiver's, but purple instead of pink. He was less ugly than he was the first two times she'd seen him, but that didn't take away the evil, merciless monster that resided in his cold, purple eyes. There was a purple dome on top of his head that matched Shiver's pink one, with purple domes on his shoulders as well. Bulma briefly wondered if all Fourth forms looked like that, or if it was just a physical trait shared between Shiver and Frieza.

"AND NOW, TO OUR EXTREME DELIGHT…!"

Oh, _please._

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ENTER, KING COLD AND HIS LOVELY DAUGHTER, PRINCESS SHIVER!"

King Cold was HUGE.

Bulma bit her lip. She knew that if…_when_…Vegeta destroyed Frieza and Cooler, King Cold would keep looking for him until he tracked him down and avenged his sons. Shiver loved her father, very much, and Bulma knew she only wanted her half-siblings to die. Maybe she could convince her father to let Vegeta go?

No. That was silly. There would be no stopping him.

Bulma didn't know what she could possibly do to stop this from happening. If his sons were both dead, King Cold wouldn't stop until Vegeta was too. And Vegeta wouldn't live out his life hiding on some remote planet. And when Vegeta defeated him, he would have to kill him. There would be no showing of mercy and letting the two Ice-jin royals live. Lack of trust for the King was enough to prove that.

Well, no matter. She couldn't focus on these things right now. She had more important matters to attend to. They'd figure out something sooner or later. Frankly, she doubted King Cold would be angry if he thought his daughter had done the damage. She was his favorite after all, so there, problem solved, for now at least.

She had to focus.

Bulma smiled at her friend, who turned to wink at her, flashing a quick thumbs up before anyone could see.

Well, almost anyone.

King Cold noticed his daughter's movements, and leaned down to ask what she was doing. Shiver look at him coolly and said something in a different tongue, preventing Bulma from reading her lips. The King glanced in Bulma's direction, then smiled at his daughter and nodded.

Shiver grinned at the spot she knew Bulma was standing at.

'Father says I can have you!' Shiver said telepathically. 'So, you won't have to be Frieza's pet! You can stay and be my friend!'

That would be nice, no longer having to worry about being raped. Except…

**And Vegeta?**

A frown. 'I'm sorry. He belongs to my brother. I can't take him.'

**He belongs to himself, and no one else. I'm sorry, Shiver. I can't leave him, not after this. Two months alone are killing me. I couldn't be without him for the rest of my life. I can't. **

The Ice-jin looked angry for a second, then sad. 'I understand. I'm sorry, Bulma. I'd help more if I could.'

**I know. It doesn't matter. Besides, we're going to take the bastards down, remember?**

Shiver smiled. 'Oh, that's right. Well, I guess it's all good then.'

**Yes.**

'Good luck, B. Kick some ass for me, okay? Remember everything I taught you.'

**I will. Thank you.**

Bulma inhaled and let her breath out slowly, glancing across the area where she knew her opponent was waiting for her behind the parallel door. The arena was round, surrounded by what could pass for stadium bleachers. The ring was encased in a giant glass-like cylinder with nearly 100 meter long radius to complement the elite fighters without giving them too much space. The barrier was there to prevent brawlers from falling into the audience, and there was also a glass-like ceiling on top of the tall cylinder so fighters couldn't fly out and flee. The strange fiberglass was intangible until two life forms entered the ring. Once two fighters entered, it would become both tangible and inescapable, and would remain so until it's built in scouters detected only one Life Force once more.

It was the perfect way to make sure everyone in the bracket died accept the winner. How sick.

"AND NOW! THE PRIZES FOR THIS YEAR'S COMPETITION!"

Suddenly, her attention snapped back to the empty bench just below the audience. There were two armed guards leading a group of twenty prisoners, one to patrol Cooler's whores, and one for Frieza's. The 'prizes' were all wearing Ki restraint collars, and each one had Ki infused metal cuffs on their wrist to hold their arms behind their backs.

Hmph. That must be for show. Obviously the metal would prove useless to hold the prisoners; only the red Ki on the links were keeping them contained.

Her eyes scanned the prisoners, ten from each brother. She started to panic when she didn't see him.

Not him…female.

Not him…female.

Not him….male with pale skin

Not him….blonde hair.

Not him…male...but too tall…then again, he'd probably grown.

Not him…blue skin.

Where was he?

There.

Bulma heaved a sigh of relief when her eyes locked onto flame black hair and bronze skin, and a fierce scowl that chilled all onlookers to the bone.

Her sigh of relief quickly turned to a sharp inhale of surprise.

He _had_ grown. He was at least an inch taller, now maybe 5'1, which accommodated her recent growth spurt nicely. His black mane was in its same natural spikes, just as she remembered, his furry brown tail wrapped securely around his waist. His body was sculpted with new muscles that hadn't been as developed before, his bare abs firm and his waist lean; his shoulders somehow seemed broader, his arms and legs more toned than before. Even his neck seemed thicker. Every single inch of him was laden with amazing power, his gorgeous, heart-stopping physique taking her breath away.

He was beautiful.

"AND NOW…! THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! OUR FIRST MATCH OF THE DAY! IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 7FT, 234 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 1320, KENOR!"

Seven feet? 234 pounds? Power level 1320? Damn. Vegeta: 263, Bulma: 0. She briefly wondered if Kami would ever give her the chance to prove him utterly wrong, but as long as they were in this setting, she supposed his superior knowledge of soldier life would outclass her.

Fine. She was still certain that she was just as smart as he was.

The announcer's voice jolter her out of her thoughts, and her deadly seriousness once again encased her features.

"AND IN THE CORNER TO MY RIGHT, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF MERELY 13…"

105? Hm. The average 13 year old human was about 115. She needed a little more nutrition. And merely 13? Hmph. She'd show them. She'd show them all. She could hear the crowd's laughter at the absurd pairing, but she didn't care. She knew they'd be shocked when she won. And mark her words, she _would_ win.

"I BRING YOU THE ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, AND LAST HUMAN IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, BULMA BRIEFS!"

The blue-haired warrior reached for her gun, her dainty finger gently brushing safety catch as she proudly stepped into the ring to make her deal with destiny.

* * *

><p>My God, she's beautiful.<p>

She looks so fierce, so proud and strong. Pride swells in my chest as she makes her way to the center of the ring.

My Little One has grown, as have I. She's taller than she was two months ago, and healthier. Food on the ship is much better than the food in my prison. Small muscles are visible under her ivory skin; she is still dainty, and yet, somehow, she looks dangerous.

Good. She's kept up her physical training as well.

She's grown in…other places…as well; she has a new womanly physique, or at least, womanly considering her age. That worries me a little for obvious reasons, but either way, it accents her new maturity. Her blue hair is longer than it was, shinier. I know she's been relishing in the bathing supplies that are provided in every bedroom on Frieza's mothership. The matted strands have been replaced by full blue silk, falling down past her shoulders and to her waistline.

Her expression scares me a little. I've never seen her with such determination on her face, such controlled rage. Even though her body is radiating with anger, her features have a strange tranquility to them, and the hateful waves have an orderly, precise pattern to them. Her emotions are completely in check, not one speck of Ki energy running away from her.

Impressive.

The crowd's laughter at her statistics stops when she enters. Her aura is radiating blue light, hypnotic and mesmerizing.

Hmm. I could have sworn her aura was red before. Now it matched mine perfectly…

Oh. Well then.

I don't know if it's her sheer willpower that stops their laughter or her beauty. With her chin held high, her blue eyes rake through the crowd, daring them to utter a negative word. It's almost silent, until the whispers start.

"Wow, she's incredible! You feel that?"

"Her aura…it's so dark, but it's so full of light, too…how strange."

"Perhaps it's some Chikyuu trait?"

I almost laugh at that one. It's no Chikyuu trait, not by a long shot. It's a Bulma trait.

Her full lips are pressed into a determined line, her cerulean eyes full of fire and spunk, her gloved hand holding a strange weapon securely…

Dear Kami, she's dressed like a Saiyan.

Not those stupid modified versions that Frieza's men wear. It's real, state of the art Saiyan Armor. A golden band rest on her upper arm, the royal symbol carved accurately into the side.

I've seen that band before. My father's closest friends wore them as a symbol of loyalty to the Royal Family. I've seen them on Zorn, my father's most trusted advisor and best friend, my cousins, friends, my mother…

I glance up at the Ice-jin princess. I've never seen her, but I've sensed her near when Zarbon was dragging me on the floor through the ships. I could always feel her stunned reaction at my scowl as she always wondered how I knew she was there. I could also feel disgust and hatred radiating off her, most of it towards her bastard brother.

Hm. Well, seems my Little One has made friends in high places. Princess Shiver is the only person who could have access to these clothes. This and the fact that she's smiling proudly at Bulma like she's her own daughter tells me she was responsible.

I don't trust her, for obvious reasons. But I suppose if Bulma trusts her, and Shiver hasn't killed her, then she must have a good reason.

I turn my attention back to the ring. Bulma is almost to the middle. When she reaches it, the announcer will begin the battle. She will fight, and the Angel I fought so hard to protect will become a killer.

'_Bulma…'_

She jumps slightly at my voice in her head, her blue eyes turning to face me immediately. She doesn't smile. I know she's trying to keep her stoic facade, and I agree that she should. But my insides still ache with her heated gaze on me. Her anger is ferocious, but her tranquility is enough to send chills down my spine.

How did she become this? It doesn't seem possible that someone as lively as her could become so serious, so skilled at hiding her emotions in battle.

My mind flits over all her preppy smirks and comments, our everlasting debate bringing a scowl to her lips, only to turn into a full blown smile. Would she ever be like that again?

A feral growl rose in my throat. I'm angered by my own observation, and I step forward subconsciously. The guard moves towards me, preparing, but I've stopped walking. Her seeing me whipped with Ki lashes would only distract her, release the rage she's keeping so well contained. That alone would put her at a disadvantage. I wish I could be down there to protect her. I can tell by the craftsmanship of that strange gun she's holding that she has a fair chance of winning, but…still. Still, the snarl vibrates through my chest.

It's cut short as I hear a reply.

**Vegeta... **

I close my eyes, pleased. It was not a mere subtle greeting, but instead, a whisper of my name. I haven't heard her say it in so long. It pleases me to know that it was the first word off her lips, so to speak.

I open my eyes again to find her blue eyes still trained on me. She gives me a once over, studying my newly acquired muscles before giving a small nod that she doesn't think I've seen.

Hmm. I'd have to tease her about that when this was over.

'Hello, Little One.'

**Hello yourself, Fuzzball.**

Despite the situation, a grin played at the corner of my lips, but is soon replaced by a stoic scowl at her next sentence.

**Don't talk to me right now, Vegeta. I need to focus, and I might lose my nerve if I keep hearing your voice. **

I nodded curtly, putting on what she calls my poker face. I've still got no clue what that is. Her eyes turn back to blaze through her opponent, and I just barely catch his small shiver at the fire in her eyes.

"ALRIGHT, YOU ALL KNOW THE RULES. FOR THE WEAPONRIES DIVISION, NO KI ATTACKS ARE ALLOWED. YOU MUST ANNIHILATE YOUR OPPONENT AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. NEITHER OF YOU WILL BE LET OUT OF THE RING UNTIL THE OTHER IS DEAD. YOU MAY HAVE THREE WEAPONS THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE TOURNAMENT, AND ONE METHOD OF DEFENSE. THAT IS ALL. BEGIN!"

The crowd erupts into cheers again, though none of them are quite sure who to root for; the strongest, or the most fierce.

* * *

><p>Kenor, I believe my opponent was called, steps into the center until he is a mere ten feet from me, grinning mockingly.<p>

"What is this, some kind of joke? Power level thirteen? Ridiculous! What's that one little gun going to do, tickle me to death?" He turns to the audience, throwing his hands in the air. The people cheer wildly at his antics. "Do you see this, people? They've sent me a little girl to kill! Ha! Who wants to see a real battle? I demand a re-"

He stops mid-sentence, his eyes open wide. The crowd gasps, everyone looking completely and utterly shocked. The arena is completely silent. One could literally hear a pin drop. Not a single sound could be heard, until Kenor's body suddenly falls to the ground with a dull thud.

There is a hole in his head. I aimed for his neck.

My gun is still poised in the air, angled slightly. I stand with my side facing my enemy's body, my right arm extended, weapon in hand.

My eyes finally travel down to the body at my feet. His eyes are still open, glazed over and unseeing. I killed him with one clean shot; he probably felt nothing, just blinked and found himself in Otherworld.

Fool. He shouldn't have turned his back on me.

The audience is still completely silent. My eyes flicker to Vegeta. Shock is written plainly on his face. Not pride, not a smirk, not anger, not happiness, not disgust, or even excitement.

Just shock.

My arm trembles visibly, my Glock shaking with it. I'm still in shooting position. I swallowed discernibly, before I lowered my hand. My eyes fall to the body again, and I blinked. Then, I turn on my heels, calmly walking out of the ring. My pace is slow, deliberate. I let everyone's eyes rake through me, the silence far more deafening than any cheers or cries could ever be. It rings in my ears, sending chill bumps down my arms. I keep my arms at my side, walking so casually, you'd be inclined to believe I'd just done something inexplicably irrelevant, like putting something on a high shelf in an attic. My Saiyan-styled boots tap loudly on the ground, echoing in the large space as I make my way down the stairs of the arena. My skin tingles slightly as I walk straight through the now intangible barrier, the frighteningly tranquil look never for a second leaving my face. I calmly walk back into the doors from which I came. As they shut behind me, I hear the crowd erupting in loud cheers, all of them loving the fact that I just took a much more powerful person's life like it was nothing. The people in the locker room stared at me, amazed that it's me walking off the stage. They are silent as I pass, my shoulders squared and my back straight, just like Vegeta's when he walks with pride.

My pace starts to pick up gradually, and by the time I've made it to the locker room exit, I am running. The hand that isn't still clamped on the metal of my gun shoots up to cover my mouth, and I barely make it to the bathroom in time to retch in the toilet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That's some scary shit, huh? **

**Sheesh, I still feel nervous and jumpy from creating that scene. I hope it left you all speechless and chilled to the bone. **

**I hope you guys liked this POV chapter. People have been asking for it, so I hope you like it. **

**By the way, I have created a short of 'cover art' for ASTAC (my nickname for this story), it's on DeViAnT aRt. My username is KimiruMai there too. Go check it out!**

**REVIEWS!**

**~KimiruMai**


	8. The Reprimands of Observing

**A/N: WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO! 100 REVIEW MARK CLEARED AN OUTTA HERE! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! 118 REVIEWS? **

**I. Am. Awesome. **

**XD**

**I can't possibly answer all of them, so I sent anyone who reviewed a private message (might've accidentally sent you two if I wasn't paying attention). If you received no such message you don't have an account. **

**SOMTINGS RONG WIT U.**

**Seriously people, get an account. Best website in the word, right here.**

**Did anybody besides XDarkAngelOfLoveX look at my drawing on DeViAnT aRt? No? You should….just saying….oooh and I've started a portrait of Bulma…kinda makes Veggie's portrait look amateurish…I think I'll redraw him. With bangs. Bangs are cutee. By the way, I apologize for my coloring. I've never taken an art class in my life and that's the best I can do with prisma colors partially because my coloring supplies are very strictly limited. **

**Disclaimer: Honestly, what's the point of having a disclaimer? Obviously, it wouldn't make any sense for us to say we were Akira Toriyama, since he can't exactly write a fanfic of his own story….**

**For those who care, I was listening to This Close and Supernatural by Flyleaf while I wrote this. They're pretty.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: The Reprimands of Observing<strong>

Bulma leaned against the side of the stall, closing her eyes, breathing heavily.

She'd done it. She'd really done it. She killed a man.

Easily.

And without remorse.

Yes, she felt bad about taking a life. In fact, she felt downright unholy. Every moral she'd ever had in her life had suddenly been, quite literally, flushed down the toilet, along with her self-disgust.

But she didn't feel bad about it being Kenor's life. He was insignificant, just another pawn to stand in the way of Vegeta's freedom, of their escape. So, she annihilated him. Annihilate the pawns, and eventually you would fell the King.

She wasn't sorry, not really. And that's what scared her.

She groaned and forced herself to her feet, leaving the stall and leaning on the sink. She locked her elbows into place, letting her head hang between her shoulder blades, her hair hanging loosely down her back and her sides. She suddenly wished she'd cut it, or at least tied it back. What was she thinking? Someone could pull on her hair and shoot her down. She sighed. Well She liked her hair long; it'd taken three years to get to this mark, and that was impressive considering she had only washed it with real shampoo once during that time. But was her beautiful hair worth losing the Games?

No.

She decided that she would watch any women that played in the tournament while she waiting for her next turn, and if anyone, anyone at all, got their hair pulled, she would cut it off to her ears.

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut and breathed. She stayed like that for a few minutes, her arms, to her extreme surprise, not shaking.

Ugh. What an awful taste.

She fingered the Royal Saiyan Medallion around her neck. How did Vegeta do this so easily? He'd obliterated entire planets before!

She couldn't imagine it. She briefly recalled a story he'd told her about a year ago. It'd been the first time he'd truly told her something about his past. She wasn't sure why he'd told her that story, either. After all they'd been through, after he saved her life, after she comforted him, she still didn't understand why he'd want to scare her away.

* * *

><p>"<em>I was depressed," he said softly. He sat on the edge of his cot, his dark eyes trained on his feet. His fingers were strung together as if he were twiddling his thumbs, but he made no movement whatsoever except to speak. "I mean, to the point of suicide, depressed. Still to this day I have no idea why I was so miserable, but if I had to guess, it's because I somehow knew my mother was going to die soon. My father said I wasn't moving enough. It's not healthy, for a Saiyan not to move. So, he sent me on a mission."<em>

_He paused, drawing a deep breath before he let it out slowly. _

"_I obliterated the Kanassan army at five years old. They all came at me with everything they had, and they didn't stand a chance. They couldn't even touch me. Not once. I was brutal, merciless. I slaughtered them without a care in the world, using their blood as nothing but a means to wash away my sudden anger. Their bodies fell in a perfect circle around me, and when I was done, I sat on a rock and ate a __Nikikumai__ stick." _

_She was stunned. How could he talk so casually of killing? How could he have been that powerful at five years old, that an entire army hadn't even scratched him? And besides that, how could he possibly just sit and eat once he was finished? _

"_That's when I got the call." _

_**Call?**__ she asked timidly._

"_Yes. My mother had given birth to my baby brother. She was dead." _

_Bulma was silent. She didn't know whether to say 'I'm sorry' or to think he deserved it from taking all those lives. _

"_I didn't send a reply. All I said was 'oh'." _

_Bulma starting tilting dangerously towards 'I'm sorry'. She couldn't even imagine losing her mother at five years old. It was bad enough at ten, but five? _

"_My mom was a beautiful woman. She had this long, wavy black hair that was as soft as silk, with dark eyes and soft cheeks. She had the fiercest glare, and yet, she had the sweetest smile. And I swear, when she cried, the heavens opened up and wept with her. Mom rarely ever cried, but when she did, it was only ever on rainy days…except once." _

_It was silent again. Bulma hated silence. Normally, silence spoke the truth louder than the noise did, and yet this silence left her with far more questions than answers. _

_Then he spoke again. "The day I left for Kanassan, my mother cried. And it was sunny outside. I guess that's when I realized that something was wrong. She told me to be strong, to never let Frieza break me. I pondered her words for the longest time in my pod, and finally, when I got to Kanassan, I realized why she had said such things. It was because I would never see her again, just like I thought. That's when I got angry." _

_She wished he'd stop. She didn't want to hear this story anymore. She started to cry, and whenever she cried, all she wanted to do was scream. _

_But she can't. _

"_Mom said to never let Frieza break me. So, I didn't." _

_A strangled sob escaped her throat. She looked up, and found his dark eyes burning into hers. They started at each other for a second before he rose from his cot, reaching through the bars to take her hand. _

_Their gazes never left each other's for a second, even when she felt his warm, bronze skin touch her own. _

"_Do you see, Little One?" he said. "You're so intent on being my friend, but do you see? I've killed thousands. Millions, probably. I lost count a long time ago. Do you see? You're trying to be friends with a killer. Do you want that?"_

_No, she didn't want that. She didn't. But…he was raised that way. If a child is raised to tell lies, could you really blame them for that, instead of blaming their parents? Was this really any different? Besides, what choice did she have? She was the last of the humans, he was the last of the Saiyans. They had a connection, a special something; she could feel it. They needed each other. Could she really push away her only source of company? Could she really push __**him**__ away, all because they had different moralities? _

_Could she?_

_**Would you kill me?**_

_He blinks, and drops her hand like it's on fire. "What? What the hell kinda question is that?" _

_**If your father was here, and he ordered you to annihilate me, right now, after all we've been through, would you kill me? **_

_His dark skin pales. "I –"_

_**Would you?**_

_Vegeta backed away, stumbling as he nearly crashed into his cot. _

"_I – I can't – "_

_She knew she'd asked him a hard question. His father had been his hero, his role model. To ask him to choose between his father and her was cruel, and she knew it. _

_But she had to know. _

"_Don't ask me that," Vegeta whispered. "Please, don't ask me that." _

_**Vegeta, I have a right to know. Would you really kill me? Would you take my life away like it was nothing? Would you kill me?**_

_It sounded like he was choking for a second, before a snarl rips through his throat. He whirls, punching the wall. Bulma yelped at his sudden movement, then jumped up from her cot and rushed as close to him as the bars would allow. He continuously punched the wall, and she could see the dim light reflecting dully off of the blood that was sprouting on his knuckles. _

_**Vegeta, stop that! You stop that right now!**_

_She stretched her arm out and hit him on the shoulder, knowing that would be the only thing that could get his attention. He froze, his fiery gaze latching onto her. It terrified her, that gaze, but she didn't move, didn't flinch. _

_**Stop that, Vegeta. You're bleeding. **_

_She pulled him closer to the bars, taking his bloodied hand in her two dainty ones. She tore a piece of cloth from her blanket and wrapped it around his knuckles, tying a knot at his palm. _

_He watched her intensely, not saying a word for what seemed like the longest time. "Why do you care?" he asked finally. "Why do you care if I bleed? What do you care, if they hurt me?" _

_She looked him in the eye, surprised at his question. She quickly composed herself and readjusted the makeshift gauze. _

_**Because I care about **__**you****. **__**You're my friend.**_

"_What makes you think that?"_

_**You saved my life. **_

"_Then, why…why would you think I would __**ever**__ kill you?" _

_She was a bit taken aback at the tone of his words, the intensity in his voice startling her. Then she sighed, squeezing his fingers as she sat cross-legged in front of the metal bars, pulling him down with her. _

_**You spoke so casually about killing, Vegeta. I just…I don't know. Humans tend to want to know when they're going to die, and if they're in a room with a serial killer, most likely they will ask the question.**_

"_Is that all I am to you? A serial killer?"_

_She glared at him. __**Idiot. I just said you're my friend. What do you think? **_

"_I think you have quite a lot of trouble making up your mind." _

"_Jerk." _

"_Banshee." _

_She smiled a little. _

"_You remind me of her, you know." _

_She blinked. __**What?**_

"_My mother. You're just like her." _

_**I am?**_

"_Yes. Of course, you looked nothing alike, but you act like she did. I remember she used to bitch my father out when he trained to hard, or hurt himself, but then she'd go right back to pampering him, cleaning up his wounds. Then she'd go right back to bitching. Tell me, are all females like this?" _

_Bulma laughed. __**No, I don't think so. Not quite like that, anyway. **_

"_Hmph. How lucky for me to get stuck with one of the specials ones, then." _

_She chuckled again. __**Yes, lucky you. Do you want to hear a story about me now?**_

"_Is it going to be one of those boring girly stories about giggles and butterflies and shit?" _

_**You're such an ass. No, it's about the day I lost everything, and the day I gained everything. It's about the day I lost my parents, and the day I met this boy with spiky black hair, dark eyes, and a big, fat mouth...**_

* * *

><p>Bulma smiled at the memory. Finally, she opened her eyes, turned on the tap, and rinsed her mouth out.<p>

"You okay?"

Shiver stood in the doorway, looking concerned.

Bulma glanced at her, then back at the sink again.

**Yeah. I'm fine. **

"You sure?"

**I'm sure. **

She paused.

**Whatever it takes to win.**

* * *

><p>I have never in my life seen such determination on such a small face. Bulma has killed her first soldier, and after retching only a few times, she is suddenly back on her feet.<p>

I hand her a hair tie that I'd taken from a female soldier in the locker room. She was all too happy to give it to me.

Bulma ties her long hair back, rising off the tips in the sink. I don't know why she bothers to keep it. It is pretty, but it's so much hassle.

"Your next two battles probably won't be till tomorrow," I said. "There are 30 battles each day except the fourth day, when there are 40, and since you only have to fight around ten times…"

She nodded, lifting her head to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes darted back and forth across her reflection. I sighed. I don't know why she worries so much about her looks. She looks fine to me; healthy, rosy skin that, as far as I know, only her race has. A silly color, if you ask me, but I don't tell her that.

"You look fine," I said.

She glances at me. **I look awful, Shiver. I look half dead. **

I almost snorted. "No you don't. You look plenty alive to me."

**That is **_**not**_** what I meant. **

I sobered. "Look, I know it's hard, but it'll be okay. I promise, it'll get better."

She turned back to the mirror, glaring at herself, a heavy scowl set firmly on her lips.

I swear, that girl has become more Saiyan than human, and I don't even know what humans are really like.

**Doesn't make it any easier as of now,** she said gruffly. **But I can do it. I'd do it a thousand times if I had to, if it meant he'd be free. **

I smiled at her, but not enough for her to notice. That poor, naïve little girl. She doesn't even realize _exactly_ what she's saying, or if she does, she doesn't notice her own intended meaning. Not really.

**I…I need to see him, Shiver. **

I nodded. "In a couple of hours there's going to be a sort of "half time". Most of the fighters go to scope out the prizes more closely, and decide if they are worth continuing. You can see him then."

She swallows and walks to the doorway, her once peppy step now staggering with nausea.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked as she brushed past me.

She stops, leaning slightly on the doorway with one hand. Bulma glanced back at me, her eyes narrowed to determined slits as she glowered.

**I'm going to fight, Shiver. I **_**will**_** win this thing, so it doesn't really matter if I'm alright or not, now does it? **

I'm slightly stunned. She doesn't wait for me to regain my speech, but instead stalks out. This time, when she walks, her back is straight, her shoulders squared, her chin held high, purpose and meaning in each stride. She walks like a warrior, like a Saiyan.

I think she's in love with that boy.

* * *

><p>I need to go somewhere. I don't know exactly where, or exactly what I'm going to do when I get there, but I know I need to go. I need to have time in complete, utter solitude, so I can sit down and think.<p>

I finally decide to just leave the locker room and see where my feet take me. I walk down corridor after corridor until I'm sure no one is around, and lean against some random wall, sinking to the ground.

I don't feel sick anymore. Just tired.

Is that bad? What does it say about my soul, if I only feel sick about taking a life for a few minutes? What does that say about me?

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. My mind was surprisingly clear, even though I was thoroughly exhausted. Shiver had said that my next two matches shouldn't be till tomorrow, but then, that also meant I'd have to kill two more people tomorrow, versus today's one. Then on the third day I'd have to fight three, and on the last day, I would have to fight and kill four to win.

My mind automatically starts rethinking my decision. This isn't safe, you'll be killed, you can't win that many battles, the next nine won't be that easy, no one will underestimate you again, it's not possible –

Not possible my ass.

If I could kill someone with a power level of 1320, with him not paying attention, then I could kill far more powerful ones when I had to actually try. It was that simple. Besides, I had a reason to win. A real, noble reason. Not a selfish reason like those other fighters who just wanted to get some good pleasures.

Okay, so my reasons were a bit selfish too. I didn't know if I could take being in the dark cell alone for six months. Zarbon and Dedoria would probably crush me with the shower, and who knows what else. I needed Vegeta for protection.

But that wasn't the only thing. Actually, I personally didn't even count those things. Because as bad as that would be, that wasn't even close to what spurred me to enter this damn thing anyway.

I needed him because I knew I wouldn't be able to take the pain of having him torn away. That much was made clear to me every time he was forcefully dragged out of our cell, and even more so when we were separated for so long.

I wonder what kind of bond Shiver meant when she said it was the strongest she'd ever seen. I mean, there are friendship bonds, and family bonds, and then there's...

Oh no…that couldn't be it. No way. I'm only 13. That can't be possible.

Could it?

A tiny nagging thought in my head told me I'd be 14 in a few months, three maybe. And Vegeta would be 15 sooner than that.

My aunt Taya met her husband at that age…

Dammit, this isn't getting me anywhere.

'Little One?'

And neither is that.

Vegeta's deep, rugged voice echoed softly in my head like the music I'd been so long deprived of. My eyes opened slowly, and I exhaled.

'Onna? Can you hear me?'

I was debating whether or not to answer him. If I didn't, I'd hurt his feelings, even if he would rather die than admit it. But I was worried that if I did answer him, I'd start bawling and give up. I couldn't afford to do that.

'Bulma, please answer me. Please?'

This is impossible.

I sighed and closed my eyes again, my head making a dull thud as it again came into contact with the wall I was lying against. Soft breath escaped my lips, my lashes brushing my cheeks. **Hey Vegeta,** I said quietly.

I felt him heave a sigh of relief. 'Are you alright?'

I hesitated before answering.

**I don't know. I really, honestly don't know. **

'Oh, God…I'm so sorry, Bulma.'

**For what? **

He was quiet for a moment. Then, 'I'm sorry you have to give up your innocence to protect me. It should be the other way around.'

**Oh, so you can give up your innocence to protect me, the helpless little girl, but I can't give it up to protect you? I don't like double standards, Vegeta. **

He's speechless for a second. 'No, that's not what I meant. But, Onna, I lost my innocence a long time ago. You were still…pure…until you met me.'

**I was pure until my parents were killed and I finally got to go to the moon under inhumane circumstances, and started wishing people would die. You had nothing to do with it. And you haven't lost your innocence either, Vegeta. Everyone does things that aren't necessarily right, so we are all guilty of something. I'm not going to blame you because the morals of our races are different. War is war. And no one deserves to be treated like this, especially you. You have a good heart. **

Silence.

I sighed. He's trying not to upset me, that much is obvious. He knows I have to focus, and I appreciate that.

But now that we've started a conversation, I still wish he'd talk to me.

**Vegeta, say something. **

'Like what?'

**I don't know. Something. Did it bother you?**

'Your battle?'

**Yeah. **

There's a pause. Finally, he spoke again. 'Yes.'

**Why.**

I said it like a statement, a demand, more so than a question.

More pauses, and he sighed again. 'Because…oh hell, I don't know. I guess…I guess because you were the only thing I had left that wasn't tainted with death and sin. I know you couldn't avoid this for long, being on that blasted moon base, but I would have rather you'd have to do something like this for self-defense, not on my account.'

I sighed again. **Oh, Vegeta,** I said dramatically.

He mimicked my sigh. 'Oh, Bulma,' he said, exaggerating my tone.

**Jerk.**

'Banshee.'

I smiled, just a little. **Shiver says I can come see you in a couple of hours, when the next 14 matches are over. **

'Two of those 14 have already been completed. There are only 12 left till then. I doubt the next few will go by as quickly. And I wasn't aware that you'd made such high and mighty friends.'

**Hey, my 'high and mighty' standards increased dramatically when I met you. And Shiver's cool. Course, that could be because of brain damage, but don't tell her I said that. **

'I can't possibly fathom when you think I'm going to talk to her.'

I sighed yet again, drawing my knees up to my chest. **Vegeta, she's different. Really. She's been training me the entire two months so I can win. **

I felt him tense, and not unnoticeably. 'She trained you?'

**Oh, calm down. You're still my favorite sensei. She just taught me female moves, is all, and how to shoot better. **

'Hmph.'

**She wants us to help her kill her brothers.**

Shock that didn't belong to me seared through my mind. 'What?'

**She says they make her father become a monster. She wants them dead as much as we do. I told her we'd help. **

'I will do no such thing!' he snapped.

**You want to kill him or not?**

He growled. 'Fine. But if I suspect for one second that she'll betray us –'

**She won't.**

We were silent for a minute.

**Vegeta? **

'Hn.'

I smiled at his signature "what-the-hell-do-you-want" sound that he only uses when he's actually interested in something.

**I missed you. **

'Feminine affection is such a strange phenomenon.'

**Jerk. **

'Banshee.'

**Royal pain in the ass.**

'Likewise.'

I didn't have a comeback for that one.

* * *

><p>She laughed.<p>

I kind of missed that laugh. Just a little.

Sometimes I wish I could hear her laugh with her voice, instead of just in her head. I want to kill Zarbon for doing that to her. It's his fault she's like this. I hate him.

But still, the corners of my lips twitched at the soft peal of chimes that rang in my head. 'What's so funny, Little Onna?' I asked, even though I knew.

**I don't know!** She cried. **You, I guess. **

'I didn't know I was so amusing to you, Little One,' I said.

She chuckled. **Aw, c'mon, 'Geta. Hell, after all this, sarcastic humor is probably the only thing I'll ever find funny again.**

'Oh, so now I'm sarcastic?'

**Oh shut up. You know damn well you are. Don't even try it.**

I chuckled. We lapsed into silence again, but it was a different silence than before. It wasn't an awkward silence that left questions hanging in the air, but a peaceful silence, one that allowed us to simply enjoy being in each other's presence.

I enjoyed silences like these. They're the only kind that doesn't interfere with the natural patterns of sanity.

But…unfortunately, I had to break it.

'Little One, why are you dressed like a Saiyan?'

She paused, hesitating before she answered. **You're a Saiyan, aren't you?**

'Yes. So?'

**Well…I figured, since I'm fighting for you, I should dress like the Prince of Saiyans would. That's my logical reasoning, anyway. **

'And your illogical one?'

**I dressed like this to make me feel closer to you. **

I'm a little stunned, but then, somehow I'd suspected that.

'You look…nice,' I said.

She smiled a little. Then I felt her lips fall from the grin, not really into a frown, just a thoughtful look.

**You changed, Vegeta.**

I blinked, snapping back to my surroundings quickly. My eyes darted around, checking to make sure no one noticed that I was deep in thought, or conversation, for that matter. No one did, as far as I could tell. They were all watching the fight. Not even Frieza watched me. The noise of the crowd roared in my ears suddenly, and I winced. I could drown out the sound when I spoke to her, but otherwise, I was in for one hell of a headache.

I turned my gaze onto the match. I had to watch who won while the Onna was gone. She should be out here watching the battles, so she could know her opponents moves when she fought them.

Not that I was going to blame her for not watching. These battles are never pretty, and right now, the Weaponries Division fighters aren't even fighting. This tournament will go on for hours, with maybe a four hour break max to rest before the next day of fighting starts. I don't know why people bother to stay here so long to watch this shit. I'd get bored sitting on my ass on those damn bleachers for 20 or so hours straight, only to have that little time to sleep before it began again.

I furrowed my brow and set my jaw, making sure it looked like I was intensely watching the contestants fighting styles.

I'm a damn good actor, that's for sure.

I pulled back into the mental space, for once completely letting myself slide into the dark abyss more commonly known as the mind.

'What do you mean, Little One?'

She gasped a little.

**Wha – **

'Close your eyes.'

She did, and gasped again. I blinked as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the blackness. She was the only thing I could see besides myself; there was no floor, no ceiling, no walls that were visible, but here, you can walk on literally _anything._

**What is this?**

'Our minds.'

**But –**

'I call this place _State of Being_, Little One. You can practice mental training in here, and it will feel like a real battle. Or you can just come here to think.'

**Why didn't you tell me about this before?** She's awed.

'Because it's dangerous. You can't be aware of your surroundings here. You're either completely in or completely out; there is no in between. If something happened to my body while I was in here, I wouldn't feel it until I left. Do you understand?'

**I understand you're freaking insane! Why are we in here if it's like that? **she fumed. Her little hands are in girly fist at her sides, her shoulders hunched, her features portraying that same 'I'm so pissed of right now' look that she often gives me.

I chuckled, folding my arms over my chest. It's nice to have free movement, even if it's not real.

She stomps her foot. **What the hell is so funny, you ass?**

'You,' I said simply.

**Jerk.**

'Banshee. Didn't we have this conversation already?'

Her face scrunched up, trying to keep her angry glare. She failed, and starting laughing again. **I hate you,** she said playfully. **Geez, Vegeta, do you have to provoke people so much?**

'I find it pretty amusing, so yes.'

She groaned. Her muscles twitched slightly, and she frowned. **How do you move in here?**

'Imagine walking.'

She did, and smiled again when her movements came freely. **Cool. So, why'd you drag me in here again? What was wrong with just talking? Not that I'm complaining, or anything, but…**

I looked away, frowning.

**Vegeta? **

I sighed. 'I just wanted to see you, okay?'

She smiled.

**Can I touch you? **

My head shot up.

She giggled. **Oh, you know what I mean, you moron. Can you feel in here, or will my hand go right through you?**

I shrugged. 'I dunno. I've never trusted anyone enough to let them in here. I only ever used it for personal mind training. You'll just have to try it.'

She hesitated. Slowly, she walked towards me, finally stopping a mere 6 inches from my imaginary form.

I shivered as her cool fingers brushed my hot skin, her hand coming to rest on my pecs.

**You're hot,** she stated simply, her eyes trained delicately on her fingers.

'It's hot outside,' I said. My eyes lingered on her hand as well. I was a bit glad that I could feel her…I think she might've panicked if we couldn't. Her hands are slimmer than they were before, more womanly, I guess. She grew a lot while she was gone…or maybe, I'm just noticing more details since I wasn't there as it happened.

Her fingertips trailed gently over my skin, not breaking contact for a moment, until they finally stopped on my cheek.

**You changed.**

I looked into her eyes, mentally noting their new depth. She was so different, so much more determined, more mature. This competition had done this to her, had taken the happy girl I knew and turned her into a serious adolescent with a mission. She wasn't supposed to be like this, not even as an adult.

I swear, I will not die until I have killed the person responsible, until I kill Frieza.

'How so, Little One?'

**I don't know. You look different. Taller. I think your tail is longer, and you're more muscled. Have you been training your ass off again? **

My cheeks darkened, but even so, I almost laughed.

'I wouldn't say I trained it _off_, necessarily…'

**Ooh, I should slap you. Shut up! You know what I meant. **

I sobered, just a little, my lips softening from their grin to a small smile. My tail flicked behind me, alive with interest. 'Well, I trained every waking moment, if that's what you mean. I was bored.'

**Of course you were,** she said, rolling her eyes.

I take her elbows in my hands and pulled her arms up until they rested on my neck. My own wrapped around her waist, my tail sliding against her shoulder blades.

Her arms tightened around me, her eyelashes brushing my jaw as she smiled into my neck. **I thought you didn't like cuddling,** she said fondly.

'I don't,' I replied. 'But I figured if I start early, I won't have to sit and listen to your begging for a solid hour after you win.'

Her smile widened against me. **Sure, Geta, sure. **

I tucked my nose into her hair, disappointed that I couldn't actually smell her. I sighed softly.

'You changed too, you know,' I said.

Her shoulders sank. **I was hoping it wouldn't be enough to notice. **

Oh, it was noticeable, alright. My cheeks reddened as an inappropriate thought crossed my mind.

**Vegeta, are you blushing? **

My already red cheeks darkened. 'No!'

**Liar, **she giggled.

I sighed again. This girl is the only one who possibly has a chance of defeating me; well, mentally anyway. I have never in my life lost an argument to anyone but her or my parents, the latter simply because I'd be given a punishment for talking back. My father's number of meetings to force me to attend was always ten.

'You do look pretty, though.' I said. 'Kind of beautiful, for a screaming little banshee.'

Now she's blushing. I grinned to myself as I felt her pulse jump, which I wouldn't have been able to even come close to sensing if she hadn't of tried to cover it up.

…**Thanks. **

Bulma started that incessant rocking she loves to do, and frankly I was feeling far too lazy to make an effort to stop the momentum.

It was then that I noticed something.

'You're still wearing my necklace.'

She nodded, tucking her head under my chin. **I haven't taken it off since you gave it to me. It…it helped me get through a lot. Thank you. I know it was hard to part with it. **

_It was harder to part with you,_ I admitted. I didn't let her hear that, of course.

I imagined something solid behind me, and I leaned against a newly created "wall", pulling her with me as I slid to the supposed ground. I heard her inhale sharply, but not alarmingly. She shifted so she was sitting comfortably in my lap, her arms sliding from around my neck. Her hands came to rest on my forearms for a second before her fingers wove themselves through mine.

**Can we change the scenery in here?**

'Yes.'

She closed her eyes, smiling softly. I squinted at the bright flash of light, and when I blinked, the continuous blackness had turned into an endless white.

I pulled back slightly to look at her face. Her features were completely relaxed, her eyes trained on our matching boots. 'What was that for?' I asked. All she'd done was change the color, and I know she's far more creative than that. Her gun, her battle stance, her clothes, all of it was proof of that.

**It's nothing. It's just nicer to see the light once in a while, don't you think? So much better than darkness and blood. **

I have no idea what she's babbling on about, but I'm almost afraid to ask.

Bulma suddenly turned my right hand over, studying the lines of my palm. I stared at her for a second, wondering just what she was doing.

**You know,** she said, **my dad was a scientist. He used to get funny chemicals all over his hands, and when he washed them off, they always turned his skin a smidge lighter. **

I couldn't really see a point to this conversation until she continued.

**Mom would tell him he looked silly, and that he'd burn away eventually. So, she'd kiss his palms. She said if she did it enough, all the kisses would keep him from burning up and leaving her. Of course, he said that was utter nonsense, but she always did it anyway. I think she just liked how his calloused hands felt on her lips. **

She ran her thumb over my hand. **You know, it's surprising, all things considered, but your hands aren't calloused at all. Is that because you wear gloves all the time?**

Well, I wasn't wearing gloves _now_. The Prizes were expected to show as much skin as possible without revealing too much, thus the reason the men only wore training shorts and the women wore things that could've passed as underwear.

I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted me.

**Your hands aren't calloused at all…but just in case…**

Bulma brought my hand up to her face and kissed my palm gently. My lips parted slightly as I sucked in my breath, thoroughly surprised. She did the same with my left palm, and smiled at my hands when she finished.

**Just in case,** she said. 

God, I hate that she has to deal with all of this.

'Hush,' I said. 'There is no 'just in case'. You're going to win. I know you will.'

She smiled again, tilting her head up against my shoulder so she could look at me. **You think so? There's some tough-ass people out there. It'll be one hell of a fight, won't it?**

I grunted. 'Hmph. Those 'tough-ass people' are going to get their asses _handed_ to them, that's what. Anyone below Kenor's power is going to be dead by time you go back out, and all those above it are going to expect you do go down easily. They are going to think he lost because he turned his back, not because you're a good shot. They're going to think it'll be easy. But it won't. And for thinking like fools, they're going to pay with their lives.'

She sighed, lowering her chin again. She pushed herself closer to me, if that was possible, and snuggled against my chest. **Thanks, Vegeta.**

As a reply, I took her palms and kissed them the way she had mine, and after that, just for good measure, I kissed her knuckles too.

She sighed contentedly, and I briefly wondered if I should be helping her relax instead of gearing her up, but then, I figured she must need a break. Either way, I wasn't moving.

My Little One closed her eyes and started humming one of her Chickyuu songs. Every so often my body would flicker in and out of sight as I checked to make sure no one was watching me in my physical state, and to check if any Weaponries contestants were fighting. Neither seemed to be happening, and I slipped back into _Being_. After a while, Bulma stopped humming, but her eyes remained closed. I watched her for the longest time, taking in each and every one of her softly defined features. Eventually, my eyes slid shut too, and we slept by each other's side again, if only metaphorically, for the first time in two months.

When I woke up, Bulma was gone.

* * *

><p>"Bulma. Bulma, wake up. Bulma!"<p>

Bulma snapped awake at Shiver's loud voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shiver demanded. She stood above the blue haired human, her tail lashing about irritably. "You scared the hell out of me. I've been trying to wake you up for five minutes straight!"

Bulma rubbed her eyes. **Sorry. I was talking to Vegeta. Guess I fell asleep. Strange, huh? **

"You weirdo," Shiver rolled her eyes.

**How long was I out?**

"At least an hour. Maybe."

Well, damn.

"I'm amazed you weren't having nightmares. Jeez. Anyway, I think you should eat something. After you threw up your breakfast and all, I mean, you need some nourishment."

Bulma nodded, lapsing into silence. She was a little upset that Shiver had woken her. She felt like Vegeta had been torn from her again. She knew he was a mere couple of rooms away, but still, she wasn't allowed to speak to him up close, and it would be dangerous to go into _Being _again. Actually, it'd probably been better that Shiver woke her…who knows what might've happened if she hadn't.

She pulled herself to her feet, wincing at her sudden headache.

"Do you want to go to the buffet, or should I just bring you some food?"

Honestly, she would have preferred to stay here and let the food come to her, but since Shiver never ate around her, she didn't have a clue as to what an Ice-jin would find appealing…

**I think I'll get it myself. **

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Well, someone had woken her up. And in doing so, someone had woken <em>him<em> up.

How rude.

The minutes ticked by like hours. Vegeta had long ago grown bored of watching the fighters beat the shit out of each other, and his feet were starting to hurt. His tail itched to uncurl from his waist, but he knew better than to let it swing loose. That would be suicide.

His dark eyes, now actually seeing, slid around the room. He suddenly felt like someone's gaze was on him, and it was making him jumpy. He locked onto the bleachers that were tucked into the wall underneath the Royal Balcony. It was like a block cave, almost, completely set inside the stone. This was where the contenders sat if they wanted to watch the battles; it gave them a perfect view of the competition…and a perfect view of the prizes.

Three women were eyeing him seductively, their fingers trailing along their lips, as if inviting him in.

He nearly gagged, but instead, settled on glaring at the tall one in the middle, who was clearly leading the façade. All three women had dark, red skin and white hair, with slim yet muscled figures dressed in black, sleeveless, turtleneck jumpsuits…

And enormous breast.

He pushed the vomit back down his throat, thoroughly disgusted. It didn't help that they were the same race as Jeice, creepy bastard. They were called Brench-jins, and they were well known for their lack of self-control, and…playfulness.

The tallest one winked sexily at him, arching her back and pushing out her breast. The two flanking her giggled, tugging at the neck of their shirts, showing off their cleavage. No doubt, they were good looking, but that didn't matter to him. Not by a long shot.

He scowled viciously at them, but they took it as him trying to resist, which didn't help him any.

He bared his teeth at them, his sharp canines snapping. A feral growl rose from his lips, his hackles lifting in irritation. Every inch of him screamed "Leave me the hell alone", but they paid no attention.

Hell, they thought it was cute.

* * *

><p>In the Contenders Bench, the three women had been thoroughly analyzing the prizes from a distance, and it was safe to say that Prince Vegeta of the Saiyan Race was clearly the most handsome. A little young, perhaps, but he would do.<p>

"Wouldn't it be nice to win that one?" the tallest (about 5'8), Ae'wo, said, pointing to the chained Prince.

The girls followed her gaze, their thin lips pulling into smiles. "Wouldn't it, though?" replied another, called O'ra, the smallest.

Ko'eq, the third woman, sighed, somewhat dreamily. "He's handsome, isn't he? I've never seen such bronze skin."

The first two nodded, somewhat remorsefully. "I do wish Lord Frieza hadn't destroyed the Saiyans," O'ra said. "I've heard they all had such tanned skin and that strange black hair. Legend has it they were such a primal people, even with all their tech. Can you imagine?"

"Yes, they must be so _animal _in bed," Ae'wo sighed. "He's a bit young, but I suppose he'll do. I heard he was one of Lord Frieza's favorites."

"Well, of course! He's one of the prizes, after all. Lord Frieza would only put up his best to outmatch Lord Cooler," Ko'eq chimed. "You will share him with us, won't you Ae'wo-san?"

"Of course, darlings. Provided, don't assume you get to play with him without permission, or without me. I'll not have you two lazy asses frolicking around with my hard earned prize."

"We wouldn't dream of it, sister," O'ra said. "Besides, I've heard he's a bit stronger than he looks, and that's saying something. Might take more than one to hold him down."

They giggled at that.

"Do you have the profiles sheet?" Ko'eq asked.

Ae'wo pulled it from a pocket in her armor. It was a thin rectangular strip of metal, with only one button. The alien woman pushed it, and the metal split itself in half, lengthening until it was the size of a human scroll. The screen was nothing more than a thin sheet of a glass/metal alloy, with tiny hologram projectors in the sides to light up the screen.

She pushed her thumb against the illuminate alloy, scrolling until she found the boy's profile. It was taken last minute, of course; the photographs weren't snapped until the prizes were put on display, to prevent curious contenders from purchasing the pictures.

The boy wasn't even looking at the camera; the picture had been taken from the side while he wasn't paying attention to the photographer. His face was turned towards the ring, his dark eyes narrowed intensely, his jaw set firmly. His black hair looked as if it were made of silk, and his skin was flawless. He had sharp features, and a deep, angry scowl was on his surprisingly full lips.

"Gods, what a looker!" O'ra cried.

"Pretty damn gorgeous, ain't he?" Ae'wo commented, thoroughly impressed.

"Hell yeah! I can't wait to do him up. Damn, look at that body on him! Muscles _everywhere_!" Ko'eq exclaimed.

"Mighty fine catch, I'll say," O'ra agreed.

"Hey, look! He moved!" Ko'eq observed.

The boy had been perfectly still for the past hour, not moving a muscle. He glanced around, looking suspicious.

"Well, damn, you think he knows we're looking at him?" the shortest sister asked.

As if hearing her, he turned to the Contenders' Bench, scowling.

"Guess so," replied Ae'wo. "C'mon, let's give 'em a show."

They proceeded to flirt then, and squealed when his muscles visibly tensed, and he bared his sharp, pearly teeth at them.

"Damn, he _is_ an animal!" Ko'eq shrieked.

"Look at him, he's positively vicious! It's adorable!" O'ra cried.

Ae'wo giggled. "I bet he won't be adorable if someone let him loose. He's going to be quite delicious."

"Yes, he will, won't he? Too bad neither of you are getting a taste."

The three Brench-jin sisters turned to face the source of the new voice that had interrupted their conversation. A woman with pale, white skin and silver hair stood behind them, smirking. She was 6 feet tall, with a perfect figure and silky hair that fell in waves to her waist. She wore an orange battle suit with oval-shaped holes cut in the long sleeves, with a belt that clipped over her shoulder and drooped down to wrap around her waist. Her pants would have been plain but for the swirled pattern above and below her knees, and on her feet there where white high heeled boots. Her gun had a long, thin muzzle, but the bullet clip was an oversized circular case, with a short but thick grip. It would prove to be a dangerous weapon, able to kill whatever it struck. This, and her natural instinct for battle made the woman extremely dangerous as well.

The Woman was called a Shroud, from the planet Inarui. She was stunningly beautiful, and compared to her, the Brench-jins felt unbearably plain.

"Says you," Ae'wo snapped. "Fuck off, Cuzodae. I'm winning this one."

Cuzodae snickered. "Sure, Ae'wo. Against me? You don't stand a chance in hell. I like that Saiyan, and when I win, I'm going to pick him. And there's not a damn thing your dead ass can do about it."

Not giving the other woman a chance to respond, Cuzodae turned on her heels and left, her silver hair swishing behind her.

"I hate that bitch," Ae'wo snarled.

* * *

><p>Finally.<p>

Finally, four hours were up.

Finally, she could talk to him. Talk to him for real, up close.

Well, maybe not "talk", but still.

"I wish I could go with you," Shiver said wistfully. "I'd like to talk to him about doing away with you know who." She dropped her voice at the last few words of her sentence.

Bulma shifted from one foot to another uncomfortably. **Shiver, I don't think that would be a good idea anyway, not just yet. **

"Yeah, I guess so. But I still wish I could go. But of course, it's not proper for the Royal Family to be near the prizes, you know, since there's a possibility that the prizes could be tweaked –"

**Shiver…**

"Oooh, right. Sorry. Go ahead, go see the boy."

Bulma nodded took her gun, tucking it into the clip on her belt. She slipped the white gloves back onto her hands. Shiver waved at her, smiling. Bulma gave her a casual two fingered wave in return.

She couldn't reveal her happiness to anyone. If she did, they'd all know why the second she stepped up to the Saiyan Prince. Then they'd wonder what about Vegeta was so special, and they'd want him for themselves. Even if she won, there were still three other people from the other divisions that may or may not wish to have him.

She couldn't, under any circumstances, make a scene.

Bulma had no idea how much that plan would be screwed up in the next five minutes.

* * *

><p>She got there a little late.<p>

By the time Bulma had make her way into the outer layer of the arena where the Prize Bench was, most of the competitors were already there. There were at least 400 people, each of them inspecting a prize. Bulma pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, confused when she saw that no one had any weapons with them.

Then again, there were at least 40 guards to make sure nothing was done to the prizes, and no one was killed outside of the arena. After all, that would ruin the game.

Oh, where the hell was he?

"Well," a loud, feminine voice said. "Aren't you a pretty one?"

The prissy announcement was followed by a hate laced snarl, and suddenly, Bulma had found her Prince.

* * *

><p>Cuzodae cupped his chin with her hand, earning a feral snarl from the Saiyan prize.<p>

"You're feisty, aren't you?" she asked.

Vegeta yanked his head away, but her nails dug into his jaw, and she pulled him to face her again.

"I _like_ feisty slaves. They're so much fun. And you're strong, too. Not to mention handsome. You aren't broken, either. All the other slaves have nothing but hate and madness in them, but you…you still have your mind, your spirit. Frieza hasn't broken you, has he? No, you're still as free as a bird."

_Free as a bird, my ass, _He thought maliciously. _Hell, if I was free, you'd be dead._

The pale skinned woman stroked his cheek, comparing their skin tones.

"Tell me, do all Saiyans have such pretty bronze skin? You monkeys were always a bit secluded, you know? Only Frieza's best elites ever got a look at you. Never mind lil'ol me. Poor beings like me that have to fight with weapons, we never got a good look at you."

His lips pulled up from around his canines in a hiss. "Get your fucking hands off me," he snapped.

"Oh, now why would I do that? I'm trying to look at you. My, what dark eyes. I've seen many brown eyes before, but yours are positively black. How strange."

"Bitch!"

"Bitch, me? Oh no, dear, you've got it all wrong." Cuzodae leaned closer to the Prince until her nose was a mere two inches from his. His muscles tensed, preparing for attack. He couldn't hurt the alien unless she attempted to manipulate him; otherwise, he would be killed for throwing the Games. Then Bulma would have killed for nothing.

He would not let her do such things for no damn reason. No way in hell.

"See, as funny as this arrangement might be, I can't be the bitch. If I was the bitch, I'd be the one in the chains. No, darling, _you_ are the bitch around here." Her silver eyes slid down his dark features, taking him in. "Yes," she said seductively, "you're going to be a fun one. I'll be in for some damn good six months, don't you think?"

His eyes widened in horror and disgust, and he gritted his teeth. Dammit, stupid woman.

"You," she purred, "are going to be _my_ bitch, and you will enjoy it." Her face slid closer; merely one inch away. "You _will_ enjoy it. Every last second of it."

_**BANG!**_

Vegeta froze as he felt searing hot, Ki infused metal wiz by his nose. His eyes widened a second too late, a startled gasp escaping his lips. A hair closer and that shot would've taken his face off. That one inch between him and Cuzodae had been completely filled by the strange bullet; if it had been literally a centimeter closer…

Cuzodae jumped back, whirling to face the shooter. At the same time, all the contenders that had dropped to the ground to avoid the shot jumped up and stepped back.

After all, it was against Game rules to interfere with battles.

Bulma stood in the middle of the crowd, about ten yards away from him. Her gun was still in the air, smoking. Her arm was perfectly straight, perfectly steady. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously, her brow furrowed. A hate filled scowl resided on her lips, her smooth jaw set determinedly.

**Get the hell away from him, bitch. **

Cuzodae snapped out of her shock, and glared at the girl. "What the hell do you think you're doing, brat?" she screeched. "You could've killed me! Don't you know that's against the rules?"

**You think I give a damn about the rules? I wasn't aiming for you anyway. If I had, you'd be in Otherworld. I aimed in between your noses, and that's where the bullet went. Get it now, you slut?**

"You little bitch!" Cuzodae reached for her gun, but stopped. Bulma was walking towards her.

Calmly.

With her gun still raised.

She walked until she was a mere five feet from the woman. Cuzodae stepped back once, but there was no way she could make a move without getting shot, and at point blank range, there was no possible way Bulma could miss.

Hell, a toddler couldn't miss at that distance.

The blue haired warrior stepped forward again, pushing Cuzodae back until she was away from Vegeta.

**Listen up,bitchess. I entered this damn competition to get a prize, and I sure as hell am going to get it. I want that one, so before you mess up his perfect physique with your filthy hands, you will fight me in the arena. **

The alien woman's hand moved to grab her gun from around her shoulders, but Bulma stopped her again.

**Go ahead, I dare you. Shoot me. **

Cuzodae stared at her, completely shocked. Behind the Chikyuu competitor, Vegeta's horrified expression nearly matched that of Bulma's opponent.

Shoot her? Was she crazy?

"Are you fricking insane, Woman?" he yelled.

Her eyes snapped back to him sharply before the blue orbs shot back to Cuzodae.

**Go ahead, do it. But before you do, think about this. Frieza has been waiting for me to grow to a formidable size for nearly three years, and he still has at least another year or two to go. And if you touch me outside that ring, you will be punished for stealing Royal property. And I can guarantee you; your death will not come quickly at the hands of Frieza himself. No, it will come slowly, painfully, and sexually, from his bored elites. **

Cuzodae froze. She knew Bulma was correct; her death would be nice, slow, and dirty. An honorable death would be in battle, not in punishment for the crimes of a common thief.

She lowered her hand, and after a moment, Bulma pulled her arm back. She advanced suddenly, and the gun's nozzle came to rest just below Cuzodae's collar bone, the 13 year old's elbow not the least bit extended.

**Touch him again,** she hissed, **and I will kill you. I swear to Kami, I will kill you. And take my word for it; I **_**never**_** miss. **

She pulled the gun away from the tall woman, and Cuzodae decided that this was the time to make the brat back down from her empty threat.

She leaned down to look Bulma in the eye. "That so, Chikyuuan? Please. You're a pint sized midget that wouldn't stand a chance against me. What do you think you're going to do? Actually, I look forward to seeing you in the ring. The sounds of falling bodies gives me absolute chills. Our battle will be quite interesting, won't it?"

Bulma didn't back down like Cuzodae had thought. Instead, she stood on her tip toes, bring her face just a bit closer to the Shroud.

**Yes, it will. I will look forward to spilling your blood. **

With that, she turned on her heels and marched back to Vegeta, leaving Cuzodae to her shock.

The crowd started buzzing again, this time with talk of the possessive Chikyuu fighter, who had an aim perfect enough to match a centimeter's width without even coming into contact with skin.

Cuzodae glared after the tiny fighter before she growled and stalked away.

_Good riddance, _Bulma thought irritably. _Who does she think she is, touching him like that? Hmph! That's one person I won't mind battling. _

God, what kind of person was she now?

Pushing the thought aside, Bulma stopped in front of Vegeta, turning her back to him. She folded her arms, her gun still in hand. At any given second, she could whip it out and shoot anyone who dared to come too close.

Vegeta hesitated, then finally stepped forwards. It was a tentative step, so much so that Bulma didn't even notice it until he tucked his nose into the soft blue hair at the base of her neck.

She shivered as he inhaled slowly, breathing in her her natural fragrance.

"God, I missed this scent," he whispered.

Bulma's blue eyes darted around. No one was watching them anymore, all have gone off to observe other unclaimed slaves or to eat...or at least, were pretending to.

Satisfied, she leaned against him ever so slightly, her muscles relaxing.

She felt healing Ki caressing her vocal cords, and she smiled. It warmed her very soul to know that Vegeta would think about something as trivial as her voice during a time like this.

How sweet.

His hands were bound behind him, and it was all she could do to resist throwing her arms around him and breaking his bonds. She knew that she could shoot them off easily without harming him, but she'd caused enough of a scene already.

_So much for my 'blend in' plan, _she thought.

**Vegeta,** she said softly, only to him.

"Hm?"

**Did you miss me?**

He nuzzled her, leaning down to let his head fall on her shoulder.

"Yes."

It was all that needed to be said.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry…but I find it weird that Jeice and Salza are from the same planet. I mean, blue and red skin? I know they probably have diversities too, but for DBZ aliens? That's just weird. Brench-jins, what a wacky name. **

**Anywho, I uploaded a picture of Bulma on DeViAnT aRt, so you guys should check it out, just saying. I'll have a new one up of Veggie over the weekend. **

**What'd you guys think of Cuzodae? **

**By the way, did you know that there is a website that generates Alien names for you? I dunno, maybe you guys have already seen it, but I found it freaking awesome. They aren't the most creative, but with a little personal tweaking, it's pretty damn cool. **

**Anyway, I'm happy with this one. Lotsa fluff…I'm giving you a break before we get back to the gore and such. **

**Sigh. After writing such a dark fic, I haven't gotten any inspiration for my other stories lately. Sigh. Again.**

**I have no idea how much longer this is going to go on. The Games might take up another good 4 chapters, and I've got something freaking awesome planned after they're over. Mwah ha ha ha, I'm tauning you. Hee hee.**

**Well, I'm tired. Peace y'all. **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	9. Jewels of Blood, Part 1

**A/N: HOLY MACKERAL that's a lot of reviews. I freaking love you guys. **

**I tried to update AE (I use acronyms, get with the program) but I really couldn't resist updating ASTAC. I have no idea what I'm going to write but I have an overwhelming urge to so Imma just wing it. **

**By the way…calculations are a bitch. So, I was like, eh, screw the canon's power scale. **

**XDarkAngelOfLoveX: Heehee, thank you! 141 reviews, that's awesome. I think I'm going to carry this story out as long as I can, but I can't tell you why or that would give the ending away XD**

**Hiesdragonfly: that is exactly what I was referring to! Congrats to getting it!**

**Cherryvampiress: Gosh, I wish I could answer that. Unfortunately, that would give the entire thing away. Keep reading and thanks for the review!**

**HaylesHayles: Heehee lucky for you I'm going to draw Cuzodae.**

**Gohanroxme: LOL space twinkie XD NOOO you need to get your electronics back!**

**Sable: I'm sorry, that's just my personal style of writing. I don't do it quite often for stories, but sometimes the dialogue is just too stressful to write in 'I's or too unstressed to write in 'he/she's.**

**Khorale: Can't say XD**

**Rhea0023: Thank you! I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama was mean, mean, MEAN to Veggie-san! Nuff said.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Jewels of Blood, Part I<strong>

I can't sleep.

Like, at all.

My eyes wouldn't stay shut for literally more than five seconds. I was restless, impatient. I was nervous for the tournament in a couple of hours, and worse, I again had to get used to not being near Vegeta. Finally being able to touch him again during halftime, even if it was only for a moment, had been wonderful, therapeutic almost. Unfortunately, it had reminded me of the empty space beside my bed that I'd so carefully forced out of my mind. Now, I couldn't help the irritating, nagging thoughts that kept surfacing, all of them about how unwelcoming and silent my room was.

Ever since I was ten, Vegeta had been there while I slept. Even when the bars had separated us, he had been there, just across the room. And after the bars were gone, he'd been even closer. He'd always been either right underneath me, or right beside me.

To tell you the truth, I preferred the latter.

I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. I scratched my arm, my skin telling me that something was missing, and my heart and mind telling me it was true.

_*Flashback_

_"God, I missed this scent," he whispered._

_I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. No one was, or at least, everyone was pretending not to be. I mentally kicked myself, knowing my little show had caused a bit of suspicion. I was worried now; Vegeta was already handsome, and feisty on top of things. That made him a prime target for most contenders. And now that I'd made such a fuss over someone else winning him, __**me**__, the weak Chikyuu girl that had apparently entered the Games in a desperate attempt to get what she wanted, they'd realize that looks and wit weren't all he had._

_Fudge. _

_I sighed inwardly, not wanting him to feel my stress. He had enough of his own. I leaned back against his chest, relaxing against his hardened muscles. Instantly, I felt his Ki dancing around my throat like caressing fingers, and my unused vocal cords were suddenly strengthened. _

_I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. Happiness flooded through me faster than the healing energy; in times like this, Vegeta had taken something as trivial as my voice into thought. I wanted desperately to ask him about it, but I knew he would deny any evidence of him just being sweet. _

_**Did you miss me? **__I asked. _

_Vegeta nuzzled my neck, as he often did. I suddenly realized how lonely I'd been; sure, Shiver had been with me most of the day, training me, but it wasn't the same. To be honest, sometimes I grew tired of Shiver's constant presence. After all, being around the same person day in and day out could become tedious. Even back on Earth, I couldn't hang out with friends for more than six hours in the summer, or else the chimes of technology would overrule the mindless chattering of my…lesser friends. Vegeta, on the other hand…well, we could be glued together at the hips for life, and I probably wouldn't care. Nighttime had been especially lonely, since of course Shiver had her own room in the center of the ship. After having someone sleep in either the same room or on the same cot as me for so long, sleeping alone was horrible. _

_After a week or so, I got used to it, simply because I had to. I needed rest to train, and by God, I was going to get it. _

_And yet, just one touch and I practically melted against him. _

"_Yes," he said softly, laying his head against my shoulder. _

_My smile widened. We didn't talk for the rest of halftime; there wasn't much a need to. We could talk anytime we wanted through our bond, and frankly, I missed being able to just sit quietly and enjoy his presence. _

_I think he did too. _

_Halftime was about an hour long, and neither of us moved in that time other than to shift our feet. I fought the urge to hug him, to run my fingers through his hair. I couldn't show affection on top of possessiveness; that'd be like screaming, "Hey, this guy is perfect! Wanna try?" or something else utterly ridiculous. I would give anything to just hold his face and stare into the black eyes I missed so much, but…well. _

_Damn all those watchful alien morons. _

_Somewhere along the line, Vegeta's tail wrapped around my waist protectively. _

_Dammit, didn't he know I was trying to be secretive? _

_Well, he probably did know…and he probably didn't give a shit either. _

_I sighed contentedly as I felt a familiar rumble in his chest. I swear, I will never ever EVER get tired of Saiyan purring. It just can't be done. Vegeta's tail slipped from around my waist and wove itself around my right shoulder, thumping gently against my cheek. _

"_ATTENTION, CONTENDERS! HALFTIME IS NOW OVER! PLEASE EXIT THE ARENA UNLESS YOU ARE SCHEDULED FOR BATTLE! I REPEAT, PLEASE EXIT THE ARENA UNLESS YOU ARE SCHEDULED FOR BATTLE! THANK YOU!"_

_**I have to go,**__ I said somberly. _

_A soft whine rose from his throat as I started to step away. Just as I did so, his tail slid to my wrist and gripped it tightly, stopping me as his hands would have done were he not bound. I looked back at him, my eyes most likely betraying my weakness. _

_His brow was furrowed, his eyes sad. His lips rested in a smooth frown, and his shoulders sagged slightly. _

_**I'll be back, you know,**__ I assured him._

_His frown deepened. 'When?'_

_**I don't know. **_

'_You should go rest.' _

_**I will. **_

'_I'll watch the competition for you,' he said. _

_I forced a smile. __**Thanks. **_

_I stepped away again, slightly disappointed when I felt the furry appendage slip from my wrist. Even as I made my way through the thick crowd of fighters, I could feel Vegeta's eyes on me, burning into my flesh. _

'_Onna?'_

_**Yeah? **_

'_Don't leave me.'_

_I knew that by 'leave', he didn't mean 'leaving the room'. He meant, 'Don't leave me alone'. _

_He meant, _

'_Please, don't die.'_

_*End flashback _

I sighed, scratching my arm again. If I concentrated really hard, I could still feel the soft fur against my skin.

I wished I could sleep. My mind is abuzz with a million thoughts, about nothing and everything. About Vegeta, the competition, my parents, my home, life, death…

All here, all gone.

I need sleep.

Sleep…

* * *

><p>Believe me when I tell you: Sleeping in sex slave quarters <em>sucks.<em>

First of all, there are twenty of us. And this room is frickin' tiny. Second, only a few of us have beds. I was lucky enough to snag one, possibly because I have the highest bidding price. And I mean HIGH.

Ha, I forgot to mention. Those who aren't chosen by winning fighters don't get to go back to their cozy little whore quarters, or in my case, cozy little prison cells. Nope, they get to go to the highest bidders.

And currently, I am one of the favorites of the crowd.

Lucky me.

Reason number three why this place sucks? Most of the prisoners have lost their damn minds. All talking to walls and shit. Some guy has been going on and on to his dead ass wife, and he freaking refuses to shut up and let me sleep. We have to go back out in four damn hours, and he won't shut his mouth.

I don't worry about that long though, because some random bitch got up and smacked him. He fell silent almost immediately, and starts crying. She just quipped at him that everyone here has lost someone, and that he needs to just suck it up.

Amen to that.

This place is dark, but just light enough for the guards to see. Of course, I could see fine without the lights, but that's irrelevant. It's cold, and the 'mattresses' aren't much thicker than two blankets. Foolish as it may be, I kind of envy Bulma right now. At least she has an actual room.

I sighed and attempted to roll over on my cot, but changed my mind when I felt something sharp digging into my neck. Damn guards couldn't even trust me to move an inch, the bastards. I hate this new collar. The ones they give the slaves for the games have retracting spikes that dig into your flesh at the press of a button, and as it seems, the guards have control over such things.

Figures.

I jumped suddenly and sat up abruptly, ignoring the needles prodding my skin. A young woman, maybe 16, was on her knees beside me, running her fingers through my hair. She had purple skin, with a few shiny, green tinted scales on her face, and purple fins behind her ears that were tipped with a shiny green layer of flesh. Her hair fell to her shoulder blades, wavy and blonde. She was kind of pretty, though not exactly my taste, but her eyes…those were just freaking creepy. They had no irises, and the pupils were hollow, with nothing but a thin black outline to separate them from the whites of her eyes.

I batted her hand away. "What the fuck do you want?" I hissed.

She blinked at me, her weird eyes full of curiosity. She reached up to touch my hair again, and, again, I batted it away.

"What is your _problem_?" I snarled. The guards jumped, and I winced as the spikes in my collar dug into my flesh, but retracted when they saw I wasn't on the verge of attack.

The girl reached up again. "Pretty," she commented.

I growled dangerously, but she didn't seem to be the least bit frightened. That pissed me off to a certain degree.

She pulled my hair suddenly. I yelped, and opened my mouth to object to her antics, but then she poked my nose.

"You Saiyan?" she asked. Despite her obvious lack of proper speech, her voice was clear, even if it did sound like she was behind a waterfall, or something of that matter.

I bared my teeth at her. "Yes, I'm a Saiyan. What do you want?"

"Saiyan pretty."

"I am _not_ pretty, you bitch," I snapped.

"Yes, you pretty. Pretty Saiyan. All Saiyans pretty?"

"I am **not** pretty!"

She shrugged, fingering strands of my hair between her fingers before I smacked her hand away yet again. "Still think Saiyan pretty. Saiyan strong?"

I grumbled furiously. "Yes, I'm strong. What do you want?"

The girl leaned closer, her voice dropping to whisper. "Kill Frieza," she said.

I felt my eyes widen. Surely she didn't know what my Little One and I had planned…that was impossible…

Well, of course it was. No other beings had been told aside from that lizard sister of his, and according to Bulma, she'd been the one to bring the subject of the tyrants death up in the first place. And if it had slipped through that Ice-jins foul lips, I'd be dead already.

Besides, who _didn't_ want Frieza dead?

Still, it wasn't wise to reveal any of this, especially not here.

So, I sneered. "What makes you think I'm strong enough to do it, girl?"

"Cineé has special ability. Can sense Saiyan's power, without collar. Saiyan strong."

…Impressive, I'll admit. Useful ability to have. I can only sense unhidden power levels, and as you can imagine, that doesn't go over well with all these collared people. Not that it would be necessary, but if someone could learn to hide their power levels…

I'd have to develop that technique.

"Alright, _Cineé_, you think I'm stronger than Frieza? Prove it. What's my power level?"

"Saiyan not stronger than Frieza yet. Frieza has 12 million levels. Saiyan only has 1 million. But Saiyan can get stronger, yes?"

…Holy…

One fucking million? _Damn!_ Why wasn't I aware of this? I had no idea my strength was that great. After all this time, and my lack of a proper training regime? What the hell happened? Not that I was complaining.

But Frieza was still roughly 11 million power levels higher than me. That wasn't any damn near good enough. I needed to train.

"Yes," I whispered, "I can get stronger."

"Saiyan will let Cineé make him stronger, yes?"

Now how the hell did she think she was going to do that?

"How?" I demanded.

"Cineé has other special ability. Cineé can bring out hidden power. Saiyan has great potential."

"Like, dormant abilities?"

"Yes," she said, frustratingly calm. "Saiyan will let Cineé do this?"

Wellllllll…it wasn't as if she was giving me power. It would still be my strength, she would just pull it out. But was that right? Was that cheating?

Apparently, my uncertainty was written all over my face. "Saiyan not cheating, if it is Saiyan's power. Power would never come out anyways without Cineé's help."

"How do I know you aren't lying?" I asked suspiciously. "I've got no reason to trust you. How do I know you won't steal what power I already have?"

"Oh, Cineé would _never _hurt pretty Saiyan."

"For the last damn time, I am not pretty! That's for girls, nitwit!"

"Still pretty to Cineé. Cineé's people have no word for boy pretty. All is pretty, not just girls."

Well, that's just fan-frickin-tastic. At least that proved she wasn't stupid, just couldn't speak Standard Language well.

"Saiyan has a name, yes?"

"Vegeta."

"Vegeta," she said. "Good name, strong name, yes. Good."

"What's my name got to do with it?"

"Stronger name, stronger potential. Saiyan has good, strong name. Would mean, 'Honor' in Cineé's language. Good name."

Okay, I'll admit, that pleases me slightly. I of course new that my name meant 'Strongest Warrior' in my native language, but apparently my symbolized strength is universal.

"Where're you from, girl?" I asked.

"Name is Cineé, not girl. Cineé is from Riko Oceyi, in Delta Scorpii Eight. Frieza purged Cineé's planet long ago. Cineé and few others are all that's left."

I knew of Delta Scorpii Eight. It was a sub-galaxy in the East Quadrant, Sector 12. My Father had made allies on one of the planets there, but the since the entire galaxy was taken out, the sub-galaxy likewise ceased to exist.

"Vegeta is Prince, true?" she asked. "Has name of Saiyan planet. Well known. Vegeta-sei, named for Royals, yes?"

I nodded.

"Prince Vegeta will let Cineé help him, will he not?"

My eyes darted around, glancing at the guards, who were listening intently to our conversation, or trying to.

I contemplated accepting her help or not. In the end, curiosity won me over. I wanted to know just how much power I had that lay dormant due to both the long term effect of the collar weakening me, and the lack of proper training.

"Yes, you can help me," I said, keeping my voice low. "But not here. The guards are wearing scouters."

She shook her head. "Collar will keep the spike hidden, unless power is too great. Cineé thinks Saiyan's collar is special, because Saiyan's power is very big already. But if collar does not hold, Cineé will hide Vegeta's power."

How many of these techniques did she have? "Teach me to hide my own."

She looked thoughtful. "Cineé doesn't know how she can teach. Cineé was born with ability. But Cineé can give Vegeta ability, if he wants."

I grimaced. I do not like this to be simply 'handed' to me. I prefer to obtain my goals on my own, of my own capability and discipline. But in this situation, I may not have a choice. Who was I, anyway, to hinder Bulma's eventual freedom by taking my sweet time learning things the hard way?

"Give me the damn technique."

She smiled. "Cineé has to touch Vegeta's head to use ability."

I grumbled something about insufferable fish girls as she put her hair back on top of my head. She probably just wanted another reason to touch my hair. I don't know why females are so fascinated with it.

In truth, the energy didn't have any light to it. The guards saw nothing, and neither did the other 'prizes'. It was completely invisible, and yet, to me, it was like the explosion of a star.

And then everything went black.

* * *

><p>When I woke up, I felt strangely well rested. Granted, I was woken by the yelling guards, telling us it was time for Day Two of the competition, which put a slight damper on things. But nonetheless, I felt like I'd had hours' worth sleep.<p>

But still, I felt strange. Different, somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it.

Cineé looked tired, but she smiled at me as we were assembled, maneuvering her way through the people to stand in line behind me.

"What's my power level, girl?" I asked quietly.

She grinned at me. "Vegeta's power has doubled," she whispered back.

…Doubled?

"Two million?" I whispered, almost a hiss.

Her grin widened and she nodded. "Two million. Saiyan strong, yes?"

* * *

><p>My first battle of the day wasn't until the afternoon. I was afraid of that, because it meant I would have time to sit around and get lazy. Well, that couldn't happen, or I wouldn't be able to focus later. At least I'd gotten an adequate ammount of sleep. To my surprise, I felt pretty well-rested, even thought my impatience made me restless as the time went by.<p>

I paced around for hours, and eventually, Shiver came down and told me my Ki was making her scouter go nuts. She has hers especially channeled to track the fluctuations in my Ki for protection, and God knows she could supply it if necessary.

Not that I couldn't shoot down any attacker with ease, but just in case.

Shiver took me to a private training room, so no one could observe my moves. I practiced for a long time before I stopped, knowing I'd just get worse if I tried to better myself further in this one sitting. I started pacing again, much to the annoyance of my fellow competitors, but everyone knew that I didn't give a shit what they thought, and since they'd seen me with Shiver, they couldn't very well do anything about it.

And finally, it came.

I walked out towards the arena, armed and ready to fight. I had geared myself up for every possible outcome, and death was not one of them.

Unfortunately, I had not prepared myself for what lie ahead either.

Well, the two things that lie ahead.

I looked up to find Vegeta on the Prizes Bench. He met my eyes immediately, the charcoal orbs sparking with a fire that danced with delight. He grinned at me, looking undauntedly pleased with himself.

'You'll never freaking guess,' he said. 'You will never guess what happened to me. Guarantee you will never guess.'

**Ass,** I shot back, fighting to keep my frown in place. **Tell me when I get out of the arena. **

'Not in a million years, you won't guess!'

Damn, he's positively bouncing. I wonder what…

Then I saw a girl lean closer and whisper something in his ear. She had purple skin and blonde hair, with scales and fins that made her look like a mermaid with legs.

And she was talking to him _why?_

**Who is that?** I demanded as I got closer to the ring.

He blinked. 'Who, Cineé? She's part of what I have to tell you about. But you still haven't guessed.'

I bristled. _**She's**_** who you have to tell me about? Do I even **_**need**_** to guess anymore, Vegeta? **

He looks confused. 'What?'

**I didn't realize you'd made such a good friend while you were down there,** I snapped.

'What are you talking about?'

I swear, boys are so clueless.

**If you wanted to tell me about your new girlfriend, it _really_ could've waited – **

'My new _what_? She's not my –'

**I cannot believe you! **

'Bulma, she isn't my…girlfriend, or whatever you called it.'

I calmed a little as I stepped onto the ring. He better be really glad I'd already explained to him what a girlfriend was, or he'd be treading on VERY thin ice. **You sure?**

'I'd think I'd know if I wasn't.'

**Well, whatever. You pissed me off for a second, and I guess that's good for this.**

He sighed. 'You are very overdramatic, Little One. Why should something like that anger you anyway?'

**I already said I was pissed off. Don't make me go ballistic. **

And with that, I walked forward to meet my opponent.

It was then that I realized the crowd was going nuts, eager to see what kind of shock I would bring this time. Shouts of 'Blue Haired Chikyuuan Bitch' and 'Badass Sharpshooter from Chikyuu' rang in my ears, literally meant as a compliment.

Heh. Good to know they were all on my side.

"IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 2 FT. 4 IN., 76 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 1012, ROEEEEEEEEC!"

The crowd roared of course, having never seen this fighter on the mat before.

"AND IN THE CORNER TO MY RIGHT, HER SECOND BATTLE, AND THE FIGHTER THE CROWD'S BEEN BUZZING ABOUT FOR HOURS, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 13, OUR ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, MISS BULMAAAA BRIEEEEFSSS!"

I rolled my eyes, drawing my gun.

My opponent was ridiculously short, with green skin and no visible ears or nose. But that wasn't what surprised me.

What surprised me was the fact that my opponent carried no weapon.

**What is this?** I asked angrily. **Where's your weapon? Are you ready to fight or what?**

The little alien looked at the ground. "No," he whispered. "I'm ready to die."

I blinked. **What?**

"I hate my life. I hate Frieza, I hate being a soldier, and I hate living like this. I entered this competition just so someone would kill me, because for whatever reason it just won't happen otherwise."

I gawked. **You entered this competition just to kill yourself?**

Roec hissed, looking up sharply. "I'm too much of a coward to take my own life, and none of my idiot fellow soldiers will do it because I apparently am not worth killing. So I will die here. And you have to kill me, because otherwise you will never get out, and you'll lose that prize you want so bad."

I cursed. Had literally EVERYONE seen that?

"Please," Roec begged. "Please, kill me. I want this. It's the only way out for me. Please."

I walked up to him and crouched on one knee, which I propped the arm that carried my gun on.

**Roec, **I said seriously, **Life is hard for all of us. This wasn't the way to go, and I'm sorry you did it like this. I don't know how things were for you, but for me...when I was ten, my parents were killed right in front of me. I had a sheltered life, with absolutely nothing to brace myself for that. That is why I cannot talk like you can, because my shock was so great, it took my voice away. But I dealt with it, and I made a friend to help me. That friend is why I have entered this damn thing. You see that Saiyan boy up there? **I pointed, and Roec nodded. **He is the reason why I'm risking my neck against people who have literally 1000 more power levels than me, at the very least. I wish you had tried to find someone who could do that for you, and I'm very sorry you didn't. I'm sorry your torment pushed you to this, and I want you to know that the only reason I'll do it is so I can get the hell out of here and rescue my friend. **

With that, I held the gun up to Roec's head, my finger brushing the safety catch loose.

He smiled halfheartedly at me. "Thank you," he whispered, and closed his eyes.

I looked away before I pulled the trigger. I never looked at Roec's body, nor did I acknowledge the soft _splat_ of his blood on the arena floor, like ruby jewels falling into water.

Instead, I just turned away and walked off the stage, the crowd screaming my name at what they thought was me being a badass and scaring my opponent into surrender. I let them think what they wanted, and held my head high as I walked with fake superiority, my back straight and shoulders squared like a proud warrior who had just claimed a difficult victory.

After I exited the arena, I ran to the locker room, sat in a corner, and I cried.

'Oh, my Little One…'

* * *

><p>The idiots in the crowd thinks she scared the hell out of that alien, and he surrendered. Not me. I caught every damn word, and I curse that alien's spirit for putting her through that. I curse him for making her complete his bout of suicide. I curse him for forcing her to show him the cowardly way out, for stealing a life that could have been saved.<p>

Curses, curses, curses. I am beyond pissed right now, and I feel a desperate need to either punch something, or reclaim my lost childhood and throw a hissy fit.

"Poor little Chikyuu girl," Cineé said shaking her head. "Cineé sensed girl's tears. Chikyuu girl cries. Cruel alien man, making her kill him for nothing. Cruel."

I nodded, glaring at my feet. "She's fighting for me," I said. Cineé looked up sharply. "She's doing this so I won't get hurt."

She blinked. "Oh! Cineé remembers. Chikyuu girl threw fit yesterday. Was angry at Cuzodae."

Cuzodae. That bitch that touched me yesterday. Curse her too.

'Oh, my Little One…' I sighed.

**I'm okay, Geta. Don't worry about it. **

I blinked. I hadn't meant to actually talk to her, but then, maybe I had meant to subconsciously. Even in her mind, her voice is riddled with pain and sorrow. Dammit.

'Come here, Little One,' I said.

And suddenly we were in Being again.

She tackled me immediately, sobbing into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, letting her cry.

'I'm sorry, Onna. I heard what he said.'

**I know I probably helped him find peace,** she cried, **but there could have been another way! I feel like I just fed a druggie the chemicals needed to give him a seizure! **

'Bulma, you can't dwell on that,' I chided gently. 'You knew this would be hard. Please stop crying. You know I can't stand it when you cry.'

She tried, she really did, but she failed, broke down and cried harder. **I can't…I'm sorry Geta – **

'Oh hush, and just finished your weeping already, Woman,' I said into her hair.

She knew I was joking of course, and managed a small laugh through her tears and punched my shoulder. **Jerk.**

'Banshee.'

**I hate you,** she said, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I smiled a little. 'Love you too, Little One.'

**You're such a royal pain. **

'I know.' I frowned then. 'You think you'll be okay to go back out in a few hours?'

She wiped her tears away on her sleeve and looked up at me. **I…I think so. If it's an actual challenge this time, then I should be able to fight.**

'Good. Everyone likes you, you know.'

**Yes. Apparently I'm the awesome Blue Haired Chikyuuan Bitch.**

I laughed. 'You haven't even been given a chance to prove them right yet.'

**Shut up!**

I sobered. 'I hope you know the rest of the battles won't be this easy.'

I expected her to cry out that none of it had been easy, or that she thought she _was_ in the hard. But she didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

**I know.**

* * *

><p>He's quiet for a minute.<p>

I sighed. Time to suck it up and be a woman. I would've had to kill someone anyway if I wanted out of that damn arena. I'm on a mission; time to stick to it.

But…even people on missions need time to ask questions.

**So, who's that girl you've gotten so friendly with?**

'I haven't gotten 'friendly' with anyone. I met Cineé last night. Guess what she did to me?'

I growled without realizing it, and pushed him away. He stumbled, surprised. 'What was that for?'

**Do I look like I want to know what the fuck she did to you? **I snapped.

'You should.'

**That's _real_ mature, Vegeta. And after all I'm doing just to free that furry ass of yours – **

'Cineé has a special ability,' he interrupted, folding his arms irritably. 'Using that ability, she awakened my dormant powers. I can hide my Ki at will now too, and that's a very good thing, since my power now consists of two million levels.'

Holy freaking hell…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hee hee.**

**Kay, just to clarify. Cineé is pronounced _Sea - nay. _**

**Also, I KNOW Frieza's power level is supposed to be 120 mil, Akira Toriyama MESSED UP. BUT if I want Veggie-san to have even a chance, I need it lower. And he has a lot to increase as it is, but I am NOT telling you how he gets to be more powerful XD No kidding, calculations are a bitch. You wouldn't believe the impossibility of it all. **

**But I did just give you a hint. He gets more powerful. By a LOT, and not by our favorite Saiyan transformation. **

**MWAHHAHA you are all quivering with curiosity. LOL and it's a LOOOOOOOOONG way oof. **

**So what did you guys think of Cineé? I really love her, honestly. Sigh, but I'm sad about what happens loooooong way off to everyone. :'( **

**Sorry it took so long. This took me forever. Don't ask why. Jewels of Blood Part 2 coming to ya soon!**

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	10. Jewels of Blood, Part 2

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! Sigh, can't possibly reply to them all, but know that I do actually read them and I appreciate them greatly!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z. This is purely for my own amusement, so I can make Veggie **_**dance**_** XD.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Jewels of Blood, Part 2<strong>

Blood red is such an ugly color.

Fucking ugly, that's what it is.

It's worse when it's the same color as a jewel, rubies that she can't get rid of. Bulma stares at them, stares at those rubies, but they don't go away. They are still there, and they won't go away.

Jewels…jewelry is supposed to be a pretty thing, a thing to remind her of Earth. She was supposed to grow up showered in diamonds and emeralds and sapphires and rubies, but she isn't. Instead, the fanciest piece of clothing she owns is her Saiyan armor, and she knows it will be taken from her when her allotted six months are up.

Yes, _her_ allotted six months. Because she _will _win. She will. She can't _not_ win. That's just not how this works. She's going to win, because the good guys always win.

She almost laughs at herself. What a load of bullshit. After all, Earthlings were good…for the most part. Most people would hurl at the thought of actually having to kill, and even soldiers had nightmares, regretting the lives they'd taken in war. And Vegeta…how old had he been the first time his virginity had been brutally stolen? She was sure it was long before she met him. And then…

Well, there was _her_.

She'd lost her purity. That's what Vegeta said. It was gone, and there was no getting it back. There was no denying it, no sweeping it under the rugs, no amount of repentance would change the fact that she had killed, and she had done it willingly. Maybe she could be forgiven for her sins, but that still did not change the fact that it had been done.

Three lives.

Three.

One,

Two,

Three.

She had taken three lives, killed three people. The first with ease, the second with ease and tears, and the third with hard work and pain.

Three times, she had killed.

Once.

Twice.

Three times,

One,

Two,

Three.

* * *

><p><em>*Earlier that day*<em>

She paces.

I'm watching her, but I don't just see it; no, I can _feel_ her pacing, _pacing_, back and forth, back and forth…

And it's driving me _insane._

'Little One, _please, _please stop.'

**I can't sit down, Vegeta. I physically can't sit down. I've tried, and I can't. I have to move. **

'Bulma, you're anxious. You need to calm down or you can't fight.'

**I can. **

'Not if you're like this.'

**I can **_**do **_**it, I **_**can.**_** So shut the hell up and let me pace.**

'You're driving me NUTS, woman! Would you fucking _say _something already?'

She stops then, and stares at me. Her eyes haven't left their big, widened shape since I spoke the words.

**Two million, Vegeta?**

Her voice sounds very small, like I'm some big, scary monster that could just up and squish her.

And I am.

'Two million,' I said.

**Holy fucking shit, damn, you have to be fucking kidding me, fucking **_**hell –**_

I have never heard her spit such a stream of curses, and I can only be glad that they aren't directed at me, but instead at the absurdity of it all.

**Two fucking million, damn,** she murmurs. **How the hell did **_**that**_** happen?**

I shrugged. 'Beats me. It could've been from all the beating I got. Saiyans get stronger when their injuries heal,' – she gives me an "I know that" look – 'or it could've come from that spurt of energy, the day you left –'

**What spurt?** She interrupted.

'I had a power spurt that time Frieza called for me, when I thought he was going to take you away during my would-be six month absence. I got angry, and suddenly, I got stronger.'

**Just like I said…**she whispered.

'Just like you said.'

She tackled me again suddenly, all but shrieking with delight.

**That's AMAZJNG! Oh my God, Vegeta! Two million, that's incredible! God, I should have worked on some collars in between training, I could get that damn thing off you right **_**now**_**, and we'd be free as **_**birds**_**, Vegeta, you could just kill Frieza and Cooler and Cold right now, we could be together again, we could – **

'No, Onna,' I said, shushing her. 'No, we couldn't. Frieza's power is still 10 million levels greater than mine. I can't beat him, not yet.'

She stopped so abruptly I thought maybe she had passed out. But she hasn't – she is frozen.

And then, she says the words. She says the words that are so filled with hate and disgust and anger and venom and malevolence and and fucking _hate_ –

**I hate him,** she said. **I fucking hate him.**

Me too.

* * *

><p>I knew Frieza's power was in the millions. I did <em>not<em>, however, by any means, think it was 12 million. He was stronger than us, that's all there was to it, but I never expected it to be twelve.

But I didn't expect Vegeta's to be two million, either.

Even with the extreme gap that still resides comfortably between them, he is incredible. Vegeta, he's always been incredible. Always.

If he could only _train_…

'It's okay, Little One. I can get stronger –'

He thinks I'm upset. He thinks I'm on the verge of a breakdown, after having that little speck of hope ripped away like duct-tape on skin…

**I know you can,** I said, squeezing him harder. **You can get stronger, easy as pie. **

A pause. Then, 'Woman, do I look like I have any idea what the hell pie is?'

I laughed softly, and he shudders when my breath fell on his skin. He's so _warm_.

I laced the fingers of my left hand into his silk hair, the other resting on his back as my arms wrap around his neck. His hair, it's as soft as down feathers, and I wish I could _smell_ him like I can see him and feel him, even if it's not real. Here in being, nothing is real. I want to smell his scent, which my senses, though weak in comparison with his, have buried deep into the recesses of my mind for safe keeping. I keep that scent tucked away, and for the longest time it's kept me from going completely _insane_ –

**You are **_**amazing**_**, **I whispered in his ear.

I felt his stomach muscles tighten as he drew in a sharp breath. I felt his heartbeat quicken underneath me; we are so close, and yet so far apart, but it feels so real…

It pleases me, that thudding does. His heart thudding against my chest, faster than it normally beats, and it freaking _pleases_ the hell out of me, because now I know I can do the same thing to him as he does to me. I can make his pulse jump the same way he makes mine jump, and I can make him blush the way he makes me blush.

It's damn pleasing as hell, that's what it is.

I can't help but smirk to myself at this incredible piece of info.

I can make his heart _jump…_

I want to test it. Oh, how I would give anything to test it, but I know I shouldn't push my luck, not now. Now is not the time.

Now is never the time.

So…who gives a damn? Push my luck, don't push my luck, it's all irrelevant. My luck has been shitty since I got to this damn place, not counting my two wins. Who's to say my luck doesn't _deserve_ a nice kick in the ass?

Who _says_?

**You know that, don't you?** I said, a little bit louder than before, but still soft. **You know you're amazing, right? **

I expected my "test" to fail miserably. I expected him to get all egotistic on me, to say something like, 'Oh, I know,' or something of that matter.

At this point, my Earth friends would say, 'LOLZ, insert evil laughter here'.

Oh, I've got his heart _pounding_, and it's so surprising I almost fell of my high horse right then and there.

Almost.

**What's the matter with you, Vegeta? **I asked, fighting a smile. **Your pulse is all jumpy. **

His arms, which had yet to go around me since I kinda tackled him, jerked, and he jumped away from me. Not far, but still. The grin I was holding back has made itself known on my face, as has the blush tinting his tan cheeks.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at me, his tail twitching with agitation, at me or himself I'm not sure.

'Like I haven't made yours jump countless times before,' he sneered.

**Oh, so you admit I make you nervous? **

His face pales, like he's given something away he really shouldn't have, and he has.

Oh, this is going to be _fun_.

'You do _not_ make me nervous, Onna," he snapped.

I giggled. **Really? That didn't make you nervous at all? Darn, I'll have to try harder next time. **

I'm playing with him, and he knows it. I'm playing with him the same way he does with me, and it's so damn funny.

He growled. 'You _don't _make me nervous. You are not worth being nervous about. I am literally millions of times stronger, I am faster than you –'

**Nobody said anything about anxiety concerning power differences, Geta sweetie,** I mocked. **But your heart was thudding, don't think I didn't feel it. You were nervous and you know it. **

His growl deepens ever so slightly. 'Woman, I said you don't make me nervous.'

Suddenly, I'm on the 'ground', facing what should be the 'ceiling'. Vegeta is on top of me, his arms propping him above me like he's doing a pushup, a devilish grin on his face.

'I said you don't make me nervous, Onna. But you _are_ making my self-control substantially weaker. I suggest you not push it further, Little One, lest you dump it right off the tightrope it's balancing on. Capicé?'

If I made his pulse jump, then he's made mine _skyrocket_.

It suddenly strikes me how sexy he is, how defined his muscles are. I realized this the second I saw him during the first day of the Games, mind you, but then he was all the way over _there_ and now he's right _here_. And even if it's all just in my mind, it's so beautiful, I could just stay here forever.

'Capicé, Little One?' he says when I don't answer.

Well, I _am_ breathless. What does he expect?

I am not out of this game just yet though. No, I'm still a player, and I'm going to give him a hell of a lot more trouble than he bargained for.

I grinned. **No, **I said smartly. **I'll make you as jumpy as I want, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it, fuzz butt. **

His eyebrows rose comically, but then he grinned too. And suddenly I realized that, with him being Vegeta and all, he has a lot more ways to make me sweat then I do. He has countless ways to take my breath away, and I've no doubt he spent the whole two months we were away thinking them up.

Yes, he's got this planned down to detail, and I don't stand a chance, not yet anyway.

And he starts doing pushups.

Goddammit.

His smirk deepens with each drop, our noses _this close_ as his arms bend.

'You know, I guarantee I can do pushups a lot better than your planet's average 15 year old,' he says cockily.

That's right, he'll be fifteen in like, a week. Thank God the Games will be over by then…and I _will_ have won.

'Hell, I bet I can do them better than your average grown man. You know how low I can go without bending my back, Little One?'

I shook my head nervously as he pushed himself back up and grinned at me. And then…

He drops, so fast I barely have time to blink, and suddenly our noses are touching.

'I can go all the way to the ground, Onna,' he snickered. 'I can make my nose touch the floor, and my back won't bend at _all_. Now, what do you think of that?'

Can't…form…coherent…thoughts…

He smirks at the oh-shit look on my face, and lowers himself again. This time, his head is turned slightly, and he goes all the way down until his lips rest at my ear. His tail curls around my thigh, and suddenly, I'm _really_ glad I'm not wearing shorts.

Every damn _inch _of us is touching, the only things separating us are his skintight training shorts and my skintight spandex pants.

'That's quite a heart rate you're racking up, Little One,' he said, amused. I shivered as his lips brushed my ear.

**Yours is jumping too,** I argued breathlessly.

He shrugged nonchalantly. 'True. But see, the difference here, is that I'm the one in control.'

Oh, _is_ he now?

It takes two to tango, Prince Vegeta.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, glad that they splayed out of the range of his pinning grasp when I fell. I laced my fingers together and jerked, pulling him against me. He yelps slightly, utterly surprised.

**Are you sure? **I said. I mouthed the words against his neck, and his body quivered. Vegeta isn't very ticklish, that much I know from personal experience, but his neck…that's the one place that makes him shudder. **Are you sure you're in control, Geta? **I mouthed again. **Cuz it seems to me like this could go either way. **

A vocalized, shocked gasp escaped his lips. He isn't hovering over me anymore. He's literally on top of me, our flesh pressed as close as two bodies can get.

Well, almost.

I suddenly have the urge to kiss him, not just his full lips, but his jawline, his neck, his shoulders, his chest…

When did this start happening to me?

**It could go either way, couldn't it, Vegeta?**

His eyes are wide, and he growled dangerously. 'You're treading on thin ice, Onna,' he warned.

**No thinner than the ice you're treading on, smart ass. **

He growls into my shoulder. 'You forget, Onna, that technically, I am an animal. You don't want to let the beast out, now do you?'

I grinned against his skin, much to his dismay.

**I haven't forgotten. You know, on my planet, there was a famous fairy tale called 'Beauty and the Beast'. The beast was actually a Prince, cursed by a witch, but when the Beauty declared she loved him, the curse was broken. **

**So you see, for a lot of girls, me being one of which, a beast, a tiger, is much more preferable to a pet, a kitten.**

Vegeta cursed.

I laughed.

And for once, I've beaten him at his own game.

* * *

><p>She's going to pay dearly for that one, I swear it.<p>

Beauty and the Beast, how fitting. And yet, still it is ridiculous, because I am far more beast then any fairy tale her people could come up with. After all, the Oozaru is part of me. I am a true beast, and someday, I will prove it to her.

What the hell am I _thinking?_ When did all this start going through my head?

I cursed, and she laughed. I growled again, and pushed myself off her. She let go of me, standing as I stood as well. She's still grinning.

Oh, I'm going to have to think up something _good_ to get back at her for this one.

And suddenly, _DING_, there it is.

I grinned wickedly. 'So, Onna, is that why you were so angry at Cineé? Surely you weren't jealous.'

The mocking smile falls from her lips, replaced with a scowl.

I laughed. 'Oh, so I was right, then. I didn't know you were so possessive, Little One. Even with that bitch Cuzodae, I was sure you only through a fit because she saw fit to try to rape me, but I guess that must have been false. You must have been angry because she trespassed on your territory. I didn't realize I'd been _claimed_.'

She hissed a little, but then she grinned again. **Well, of course. You think I'd go through all this trouble to protect you if I didn't have any ownership?**

Clever little banshee, using my own words against me.

I smirked. 'Well played, Little One.' I fazed out of sight for a second, and she gasped when I reappeared literally an inch from her. I imagined a wall behind her, planting my hand on it above her head when she backed up and bumped into it.

I have her cornered, and she can't escape.

'You should know, though,' I said mischievously , 'that I wouldn't think to lay a hand on another.'

She swallowed, noting how I said 'another' instead of 'anyone'.

**I, uh, should probably go practice a little, **she stuttered.

I grinned, fingering a few strands of blue hair. 'Alright. You come back if you want company.'

She furrows her brow, like she's trying hard to make herself do something…or not do it, whatever it is.

**You are such a royal pain in the ass, **she stated, lifting her chin defiantly.

I grinned, cocking my head. 'You say that like it's a bad thing,' I teased.

She rolled her eyes. **Bye, Vegeta, **she said irritably.

I laughed as she disappeared. 'Bye, Onna,' I smirked.

The last thing I saw before she vanished was two narrowed blue eyes, glaring at me.

**I say we call this one a tie.**

'Fair enough, Little One. Fair enough.'

And then she's gone.

I pulled back into the real world. Cineé is grinning at me. "What?" I asked.

She giggled. "Was Vegeta talking to Chikyuu girl?"

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. "Yes. So what?"

She giggled again. "Pretty Saiyan was _blushing_, he was. Was Chikyuu girl embarrassing Vegeta?"

"No!"

"Ooh, Vegeta is a liar!"

"Am not!"

"Why does Vegeta blush, then?"

I looked away, irritated. "Because Chikyuu Girl is a vulgar, vulgar woman," I muttered.

Cineé grinned again. "Ha! Cineé knew it. Chikyuu girl wishes to mate Vegeta. And maybe Vegeta wishes such too?"

"Shut up!"

* * *

><p>When I pull out of Being, I find that my lips are pouting. Damn you, Vegeta, I thought viciously.<p>

Well, no matter. I still got him good. He now knows that he isn't the only one who knows how to play this game.

I grinned, remembering his stunned expression, his growls, his empty threats. He knows he can't back them up, but that boy does have a way with words.

He was right though. He is a beast.

And all I would have to do to let him out is push a couple buttons.

This ought to be interesting.

* * *

><p>She's been pacing for hours now. Why must it take so long for her matches to come and go? No doubt, a period of rest is nice, but she needed some action.<p>

And then, _finally_, it's time.

Her gut told her to bring her sniper, and she did. Her dagger was also clipped out of sight at her belt. She had a feeling she'd need it.

As she stepped past the entrance to the arena, she made eye contact with her Saiyan Prince. He smirked at her, and a crimson slash danced across her cheeks. She winked at him in return, getting the same reaction. Beside him, Cineé laughed.

Bulma still didn't know if she trusted the Rikonan, but since Vegeta sucks at playing innocent, she decided it's probably best to trust the person that has increased their chances so much.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! MAY I DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE RING AND WELCOME ONE OF THE CROWDS NEW FAVORITES! IN THE RIGHT CORNER, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 13, GOING INTO HER THIRD BATTLE, OUR ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, MISS BULMAAAA BRIEEEEFSSS!"

Geez, the announcer guy really needs to mix it up.

"AND IN THE LEFT CORNER, AT 5'7, 123 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 2304, ALSO GOING INTO HER THRID BATTLE, SAEEEEET OF MALYOOOOOONI!"

Bulma readied herself. This would be her first fight against a woman, and if she was anything like that Cuzodae bitch…

Suddenly, images rushed to her mind. Bulma froze for a second, until she realized where they were coming from.

Vegeta had seen this woman fight before, and he was now transmitting all of her carefully analyzed moves to her mind. She could now fight this woman with ease.

**Thanks, Veggie-kun.**

'Veggie-_what_?'

She laughed to herself, though he heard it. And then, she stepped up to the ring to face her opponent, and take out the person who dared get in the way of her and her Saiyan Prince.

Saet…was a cobra. That's the only way Bulma could describe the woman. She was humanoid, but her arms and fingers were unusually long, and so was her face. There were tiny holes where her ears should be, and a string of them just above where her eyebrows would reside had she any. Her nose was blunt, and her nostrils were small and tear shaped. A diamond patterned danced across her olive green skin, and her pupils were like a snake's too; completely yellow except for a black slit in the middle. Her hair was the color of brown, dead leaves, short, spiky, and cropped. She wore the classic armor of her people (a camouflage green colored breast plate with black pants and long sleeved shorts), as all Contenders did, and her gun resembled a small rifle that could be fired by either one hand or two.

Bulma shuddered. She had _never_ liked snakes. Her mom, strangely, thought they were beautiful creatures, and they were…the little, tiny gold ones. But the big, green _giant_ ones?

'Don't let her psych you out. She is nothing but an ugly serpent.'

**No shit. I hate snakes. **

'Then destroy it.'

She nodded determinedly, reaching for her sniper. **Yes, Sensei.**

She didn't see him stand straighter as she walked into the arena, his chest puffed out with pride.

"Tell me, Earthling," Saet said. "Have you ever seen a Malyonan before?"

**I haven't. Have you ever seen a human before?**

"I don't bother with weak Chikyuuans, girl. I promise you, this will be quick."

**I'm sure it will be.**

Bulma snapped her sniper over her shoulder and fired, barely taking time to aim. Saet grinned as the Ki infused bullet came speeding towards her, and dodged it at the last second. She moved to fire at the last place Bulma had been standing. Smoke went up everywhere as part of the beam scraped the floor. The crowd shrieked as one of their favorite fighter's body became enclosed in the smoke and disappeared.

**Hey! Malyonan!**

Saet looked up sharply and hissed, her snake-like tongue darting out from between her lips. Bulma floated above her, looking positively smug.

The blue haired fighter briefly remembered the dream she often had about Vegeta during her two months of training, when he'd been in the trees, asking her to swing with him.

_Remember that trick I taught you?_

Yes, she remembered. She'd practiced it hard, and now, she was a master.

Now, Bulma could fly.

No Ki was allowed in the tournament, that was true. But that was only for attacks. She was not using it to cause physical harm to Saet, only to enhance her defenses. Besides, who could know that humans couldn't fly naturally?

She grinned wickedly and fired at the ugly snake, who snarled and dodged it by a hair (or scale). Bulma shot again and flew down to the ring, firing once more.

Saet whirled, and a small shield protruded from her arm. Bulma's bullet bounced off of the shield, which was composed of thick, red crystals.

**Shit,** Bulma muttered.

Saet cackled, and fired at Bulma again.

This time, it hit its mark. The bullet hit its mark, and again her little body was enveloped in a cloud of dust.

The crowd shrieked again, and then everything was silent for a split second. Then…

Vegeta screamed in rage. Beside him, Cineé, whose mouth had been hanging open in shock, jumped. She could literally _feel_ the Saiyan's anger rolling off him in waves.

"You fucking_ bitch_!" he roared. "You _killed_ her!" Spikes immediately dug into his neck, and his collar beeped furiously, but he paid them no mind.

Saet looked towards the maker of the noise, and smirked at him. Vegeta's animalistic roar resounded through the room, echoing off the gigantic walls. He felt power rising in his body, burning underneath his muscles, longing to erupt from his flesh. His fury was incredible, and his bonds creaked and groaned as he pulled at them. They were brand new, and yet, in a few seconds, they might crack like old ropes...

Furious snarls ripped from his throat. He was going to kill that bitch, he'd fucking _kill_ her, for taking his Onna from him. He would rip her fucking ugly face from her damned lizard head, for taking his Little One from him. She was going to fucking _die_ –

Cineé gasped a little as his black eyes flickered teal, and suddenly a yellow aura erupted around him, licking at his skin like flames. The pressure from his power was incredible, and it was still going up. Cineé nearly sank to her knees, her special senses and abilities forcing her to take all that power in. It burned in her mind, like a knife at the back of her skull, at her throat. The guards' scouters beeped frantically, and they started to rush forward, only to stop abruptly as the small machines exploded on their faces. On the Royal Balcony, Frieza rose from his seat, ignoring his sister's cries, and peered at the Saiyan teen.

But then, all the power left him in a flash, and he gaped up in the air in the arena. The crowd followed his gaze and saw nothing, the dust and smoke still blocking their view.

But Vegeta could see it.

And then, laughter echoed across the giant playing field, carrying through the barrier and reaching the crowd. It was not vocal laughter, and yet, it could still be heard by all, simply because the owner wished it so.

A handheld gun suddenly appeared out of the smoke, aiming at Saet. She hissed, but had no time to move before a Ki Bullet slammed into the gun she held, knocking it out of her hand. Saet screeched and held her wrist, her fingers smoking from the heat of Bulma's weapon.

Blue flames sprouted from the fading cloud of smoke, pulsing a bit before they flared dramatically, carrying all evidence of Saet's shot away. They shone, dancing around Bulma's lithe frame, and calmed as she reduced the little bit of power she had.

The Blue-Haired Chikyuuan looked at the Black-Haired Saiyan's expression, and she laughed again.

**Come on, Veggie. Surely you didn't think I hadn't developed some type of defense mechanism. I am a genius, after all. **

Shocked gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. The Chikyuuan had made this sorcery? Such tech hadn't been developed yet! What _was_ it?

She pulled her right hand out of its glove, revealing something that an Earthling would know to look like a watch. She pressed a small red button on the side, and her body shimmered. Suddenly a hazy green shield appeared around her. The crowd was abuzz with surprised cries, arguing, and heated discussions about whether or not this was possible.

Bulma smirked at the audience, and at Vegeta, before turning her gaze onto Saet. No longer smirking, she glared at the lizard woman, and flew towards her. Saet hissed and scrambled to grab her weapon, but a well-placed shot from Bulma's Glock shattered it into a million pieces.

Saet shrieked, suddenly wishing she'd brought in two weapons like the Chikyuuan fighter had. She could have sworn it would be an easy fight, if she paid attention to the little girl, unlike the fool Kenor.

She had underestimated the Chikyuuan greatly.

She yelped when Bulma's gold tipped Saiyan boots were suddenly right underneath her nose. She looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that the girl didn't have her gun pointed at the Malyonan's face, but instead, both her guns were in its holster and slung across her back. In her hand was an 8 inch dagger, sharpened to sleek perfection.

Bulma glared at Saet. **You know, for each of my first two matches, I only used one bullet. Now, I can guarantee that the next couple of people I fight will be a lot stronger then you, or at least have more experience, seeing as all of your strength or under will be dead by the end of the day. Not counting me, of I used at least seven damn bullets on you today. **_**Seven.**_** Do you have any idea how long it took me to make these? Rest assured, I still have at least a thousand or so left, but I don't plan on wasting them. Might come in handy later. So you see, since I will need them for the stronger fighters, I've decided you are not worth killing with my guns. **

She raised the dagger above her head, and the Ki infused metal gleamed in the light.

**Good thing I brought my dagger with me, eh?**

And with that, she brought the miniature sword down, cleanly slicing off Saet's lizard head. It rolled past her Saiyan boots, coming to rest a few feet behind her.

The body twitched once, twice, and lay still. Blood splattered across Bulma's armor, and her ungloved right hand. A single drop splashed on her cheek, looking like the classic gunshot wounds that humans had painted for centuries.

The crowd screamed, cheering for her. She lifted her head to them, and raised her dagger, gripping the hilt and pointing the blade sideways.

She grinned at Vegeta's shocked face, and turned and exited the arena. She knew Frieza had been watching them carefully, especially during Vegeta's outburst, but there was nothing she could do about that. All she could hope was that Vegeta's true power hadn't been fully revealed.

Right now, she should focus on _not_ throwing up at the thought of her beheading someone. Right now, she had to focus on her victory, and that she was one step closer to choosing her beautiful prize.

It wasn't till she got to the bathroom that she realized Saet's blood didn't dry like normal blood.

It dried in crystals.

Blood red is such an ugly color.

Fucking ugly, that's what it is.

Bulma pulled at the crystals, expecting them to come off like stiff duct-tape, but they didn't. It was like they had fused with her skin. The blood on her armor and dagger was still liquid, and she rinsed them quickly as to not touch the disgusting gore again.

But the splatters on her bare hand, and the one droplet on her face, they were crystals.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my go._

They weren't coming off.

Why won't they fucking come _off?_

* * *

><p>Vegeta nearly sank to his knees when he realized she was alive. His muscles had subconsciously locked into place, but now that the cheers of the crowd had died down, and he could no longer see her, his adrenalin rush had all but disappeared, and suddenly his knees were wobbly.<p>

My _GOD_, I thought she was going to die…

What would he have done if that bullet had gone through her heart? Really, what would he have done?

'Onna …' he whispered. 'Kami, Little One…'

**They won't come **_**off**_**, Vegeta…**

Her voice is as quiet as his was, if not softer.

He breathed a sigh of relief, only to be replaced with concern. 'What won't?'

**They won't fucking come **_**off**_**, Vegeta! **

It's then that he realizes she is on the verge of a panic attack. She opened her mouth to scream bloody murder, but she can't…

And then she is screaming.

Vegeta yanked her into being, and suddenly, she had her voice.

Could she always talk in Being? Well…of course she had. You had to just imagine something for it to be so, and right now, she could form no coherent thoughts. All she could do was scream.

'Bulma! Bulma, stop it! Stop it, Bulma! I'm right here! Calm down, I'll get them off! Stop it!'

The only thing that stops her cries is the warm feel of his hands on hers. Her small hands are completely enveloped in his bigger ones, and he brings her fingertips up to kiss them.

'It's okay, Little One. I'll get them off, I swear it.'

She just nods through her tears, and he pulled her to him. A sob rakes her shoulders, her hands pressed against his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around her protectively.

He felt her sinking in his embrace, and he fell to his knees to accommodate her. Her sobs grew harsher, and he winced as the crystal on her cheek dug into his skin.

**Oh my God, Vegeta, why won't they come off?** She whispered.

'I'll get them off,' he said determinedly. 'I swear, I will get them the fuck off, I swear it.'

He lets her cry for ten more minutes, and when her cries finally fell to whimpers, he takes her right hand and studies the ruby red jewels that have sewn themselves into her skin.

'Come to me at halftime, and I will get them off,' he said quietly.

She nodded into his chest, fresh tears pouring out of her eyes. She was surprised when he started rocking her slightly, she same way she always did for him when he came back from Frieza.

Finally, she whipped the last bit of her tears away on her glove. **I should get back,** she said. **Before someone hurts me.**

He nodded, but he didn't let go.

It took all of her strength to make her body fade from the miraculous place. Pulling out of Being was cake, but pulling away from Vegeta…

That was hell.

Vegeta took a deep breath as she disappeared. He sat in Being a while longer, thousands of thoughts flying through his head, like how he'd almost lost her, how Frieza had more than likely seen his little display of power, how he really didn't know how he was going to make his life fucking _work_…

For the first time in his life, his confidence wavered. He was no longer sure that he could take it like a man, take anything that was thrown at him, cope with the loss of anything. Because he'd come so very damn close to losing her, and it scared the shit out of him.

What if he lost her? What in Kami's name would he do?

Was he supposed to do _anything _but _die_?

He hated his life, he really did. The stress of it all was starting to get to him. How long before he went fricking _insane_?

No. He wouldn't lose his mind. He refused to.

Vegeta chuckled to himself as he thought it.

Ha! Like he _could _lose his mind. He was physically incapable of doing so…

Because he had clearly already willingly given it away to someone else. And she had clearly kept it safe.

He frowned then, thinking of her in the locker room, panicking. She was a bit calmer now, he could feel it, but she was still leaning against the wall in the bathroom, her eyes squeezed shut in an effort to not look at her hand.

He knew how to get the jewels off. He didn't quite know how he knew…Saiyan instinct, perhaps, but he knew how to get it off, nevertheless.

He just hoped he wouldn't hurt her in the process.

* * *

><p>Halftime was only about 30 minutes later. Thank God.<p>

She was already waiting at the door when the bell rang, signaling the start of halftime, and she rushed to him before she was crushed in the streaming crowd.

Vegeta smiled a little, seeing as she'd cleaned the liquid blood off already. Luckily, the blood only crystalized against skin. It was the Malyonan's way of forever marking and punishing their killers.

But Vegeta knew how to get it off.

Bulma hesitated, stopping a few feet away. Then she thought…

_Aw, screw it._

And with that, she abandoned her "stay discreet" plan, running to him and throwing her arms around his neck. She was fully aware that everyone was watching her, but as of now, she really didn't care.

He turned his head, burying his nose in her hair as he often did. His tail darted around her waist at first contact, thumbing happily against her side.

"I hope you know you scared the shit out of me," he muttered in her ear.

She snorted. **Consider that payback for earlier. **

His cheeks darkened, and at his blush, Cineé giggled.

Bulma withdrew from her prince, her angry gaze stopping the Rikonan short.

"This is Cineé." Vegeta stated bluntly. "Cineé, Bulma."

The purple skinned girl smiled warmly. "Cineé is happy to meet Bulma. Vegeta was right, Bulma is pretty."

Bulma gaped.

"I said no such thing!" Vegeta cried, embarrassed.

"Vegeta didn't have to! Cineé can tell Vegeta thinks this. Cineé is people person."

"Dammit, Cineé, would you shut _up_?"

**Nice to meet you,** Bulma said, smiling. Then she frowned. **I'm sorry I can't get you out of the Games too…**

Cineé smiled halfheartedly. "Is fine. Cineé's brother fights in Games. Orca is strong, strongest in Warrior Division, yes."

Bulma smiled again…

Until her eyes darted to the flash of red on her skin.

Vegeta growled at the sight of it. "Come here, Little One," he said. She obeyed. "Hold your hand up to my lips."

Bulma raised her eyebrows, but did as he asked.

Before she could object, his tongue darted out, raking across the strange crystals on her hand. She gasped, her eyes growing large as the crystals sizzled, growing hot. She yelped as it nearly burned her skin, and Vegeta winced.

The red jewels suddenly split, breaking apart in clean, even shards until they fell at her feet. The only thing left on her skin was a faint mark in the shape of the ruby that had covered the top of her hand.

**How did you do that? **She asked, looking at her hand in awe.

He studied her hand thoroughly, making sure the mark hadn't come from him. "Remember that acid I spit at Zarbon that one time?"

She nodded.

"I figured it would burn away the crystals, and, given the structure of these particular jewels, the crystals would absorb most of the heat before it burned you. Guess I was right."

Bulma said nothing for a moment, still amazed. Then she looked up, her bright blue eyes meeting his black charcoal ones.

He found himself smiling at the fact that the pools of blue still had a sparkle to them.

**You're incredible,** she said.

A crimson slash danced across his cheek, but the blue haired fighter didn't notice. Her hand had gone up to the crystal on her face.

Vegeta looked away, embarrassed. Bulma just moved closer, motioning for him to remove the tiny blood ruby.

He turned his face back to her, still hesitant. "I might burn you," he said. "That one is little."

**I just want it off. Shiver can take me to a tank if I get a burn. **

He nodded and leaned closer, but just as his lips nearly brushed her cheek, he stopped again.

Bulma was suddenly struck by how much this must look like a kiss, and also, by how much she wanted it to be such.

"Is this alright?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded.

He breathed in and let it out slowly, tickling the fine hairs on her skin. Very carefully, he licked the stone. It sizzled and fell away almost immediately, and not a drop of acid resided on her skin. She was completely unharmed, and the jewel had been so tiny, it hadn't even left a mark.

Well, of course. She knew he wouldn't hurt her.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, and before she backed away, he gently kissed her cheek where the ruby had been. A small gasp escaped her lips, and a large smile crept onto her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head onto his right shoulder, tucking her head underneath his chin.

Cinee giggled and took a sudden interest in the crowd, spotting her brother. Orca didn't look much different than his sister, with short, spikey blonde hair a purple skin, with green fins behind each ear. Leather bands were tied around his muscled arms, and a trident that matched the barrette in her hair was pinned on the sling to his gun.

He smiled and waved, making a funny face at her. She giggled and returned it. Orca did not come and meet his sister; that would only draw attention. Instead, he used his own special ability; making Cineé appear a hideous beast in the eyes of whoever looked at her with lust while he pretended to observe other female slaves.

The Saiyan and Earthborn paid them no attention, of course. Their eyes rested nowhere in particular, mostly on their feet, or on eachother's feet, it didn't matter.

Bulma sighed shakily, taking in the warmth of his hot skin through her spandex armor. Just like their first halftime, they said nothing, for there was nothing to be said. Their hearts thumbed steadily, in sync with one another, and for once they were not slaves or soldiers…just teens.

Bulma lifted her head slightly, kissing Vegeta's jaw.

And, like he always did when she was near his neck, he shivered.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: GODDD THAT TOOK ME AGESSS!**

**Kay, so not nearly as long as the last one, but I was working on this as continuously as possible, whereas the last one I had writer's block for days on end. **

**Also, I feel like I ruined the sweetness of that last sentence by my outburst. **

**Oooh, I have a picture of Cinee on DA if anyone wants to look.**

**So what do you guys think? Should I do a lil more character developing on Cinee and her big loving brother Orca, or no? Because that means a whole extra chappie for you guys…though it won't have much B/V in it. Your choice, and I'm counting on you to vote, or at least PM me, because your opinions will decide the next chapter and there is no going back. **

**Aaany who, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I am happy with it, though I think I might suck at battle scenes. Also, I will explain the other three divisions of the Games in the next chapter.**

**You know the drill. Review!**

**~KimiruMai.**


	11. Much Like Falling

**A/N: Woahhh that's a lot of reviews! Thank you guys!**

**The title of this one is kind of insignificant, mostly because of falling *ahem* objects and then Cineé falling for like the first time in her life underwater. It's from the Flyleaf song. **

**Disclaimer: I would like to thank Akira Toriyama for creating a dream world with super strong sexy aliens and magic orbs that fix everything.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Much Like Falling<strong>

That night, Bulma dreamt of severed heads.

They were ugly heads, of all shapes, sizes and colors, each of them with disfigured, jagged slices at the very visible remains of necks.

She did not scream, and that's what frightened her. She didn't scream, because she was not afraid. The heads didn't fall from the sky, but appeared seemingly out of nowhere, thumping silently as they landed. They rolled on the ground, as if dropping from invisible bodies, as if someone had purposely dropped them there.

She didn't scream. She was not afraid. Instead, she just stared at them with a morbid fascination, not blinking once.

Eventually, sound started filtering into her dream. She could hear the dull thuds of falling skulls, and a sickening _riiiiiip_ that came from the necks being torn violently from the shoulders.

She suddenly felt sick, but was still strangely not afraid.

Why did she have that feeling of being…safe? She never felt safe, not anymore. Not since the Games had started, she was never safe. So why did she feel like someone protective was near her?

Bulma stood up, realizing she was sitting. She looked around at the background-less area she seemed to be trapped in, still seeing nothing but decapitated bodies and alien heads. Somewhere along the line, she could swear she saw a blue head with green, braided hair, but surprisingly, she paid that no mind either.

Grunts suddenly echoed in the air, followed by more ripping and dull thuds. Someone was here with her, tearing off the heads of extraterrestrials.

She suddenly realized that the reason she wasn't afraid was because she had no reason to be. She seemed to be a ghost watching like a distant onlooker, and her translucent skin proved her theory. It was as if she was watching a film through a hazy screen, and yet she could see everything perfectly.

Another grunt resounded, and a grotesque screech tore through the almost silent nothingness.

Where in hell was that sound coming from?

Bulma turned around, excruciatingly slowly, determined to find out who the murderous killer was. Her blue eyes landed on a figure slightly taller than her, wearing Saiyan armor and a red cloak.

But the most distinguishing features were bronze skin and dark, flame hair.

Vegeta turned to look at her just as the head came loose. Blood spurted from the body, splattering his clothes. His white gloves had literally been painted red, and his soft tail was drenched in the metallic liquid.

Bulma screamed.

His dead expression didn't change, even at the piercing screech. He dropped the body and came towards her, much faster than she could possibly hope to move in dreamland.

Bulma shrieked again and attempted to back away, but her feet moved so slowly –

Vegeta's bloodied, gloved hand clamped on her wrist. Bulma screamed again, but he didn't flinch, as he normally did. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, as if his mind wasn't present in his body. Had he lost his mind? No…he couldn't…Vegeta was too strong for that…

As she tried to shrink away from him in fear, Vegeta blinked, and the life returned to his dark eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to."

His hand slid down from her wrist to delicately hold her fingertips, bring them up to kiss them gently. When he released her, Bulma noticed her head was dripping with blood.

* * *

><p>I bolted upright in bed and screamed.<p>

Oh Kami, what _was_ that? What a nightmare…and about Vegeta?

I _never_ have nightmares about Vegeta. Never. I have had nightmares that didn't include Vegeta, nightmares in which something happened to Vegeta, but never in my life have I had a nightmare where Vegeta was the scary thing.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? It looked like he was on a battle field…

And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that those victims had been innocents…

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes and sat up abruptly. The guards moved, and the spikes in my collar lengthened ever so slightly, but retracted when I didn't move. Cineé lay on the cot beside mine, and she lifted her head at my sudden movement.<p>

I narrowed my eyes at the guards who were still watching me carefully, and they instinctively turned away from my gaze.

I felt Bulma's Ki jump. Her Ki had been unstable, nagging in the back of my sleeping mind, and suddenly it spiked viciously, and then went down again.

I swear, if anyone was hurting her…

I closed my eyes and focused. 'Are you alright, Little One?'

Now that my conscious was brushing hers, I could feel her breathing heavily, and she seemed to have an aura of fear hanging around her. **I'm okay. **

'Are you sure?'

…**No.**

Kami, she's crying. What am I supposed to do about that? I can't go to her, and I don't trust anyone in this damn place to leave me alone if I go into Being. Some of these slaves are fucking lunatics. And if Cineé can't wake me up…

'Tell me what's wrong.'

**I can't!** She wailed.

'Why not?' I demanded.

She sniffled. **I just can't, okay? It's private. **

'Are you bleeding again?'

**No! Gross, Vegeta! Stop talking to me about those things!**

'Well then, I don't see what could be so private that you have to keep it from me if it's not that.'

**Well, obviously even **_**that**_** isn't as private as I'd like it to be. And…it just is, Vegeta. It was just a nightmare. I'm fine.**

'What, were you dreaming about some giant rabid bunny trying to eat you?'

She tried to frown at me, and failed, laughing. **Jerk.**

'Banshee.' I paused. 'Are you sure you're alright, Bulma?'

She took a deep breath, knowing that the only time I didn't use her many pet names was when I was being serious.

…

**Kami, Vegeta.**

* * *

><p>He never uses my name unless he's dead serious. He'd much rather bug the crap out of me and call me every random name in the universe.<p>

I don't know that I should tell him. After all, it was just a stupid dream. I doubt it means anything. I mean, do dreams ever mean any-

"_Vision." _

**What?** I asked aloud. Who was talking to me? Instinctively, I reached under my pillow and drew my gun.

"_It was a vision, not a dream."_

**Who are you, and what do you want? **I demanded.

And then, I remembered. A strange blue face with whiskers frowned at me, somewhat sadly.

"_It's a vision, Bulma dear. Not a dream." _

**What the hell is that supposed to mean? **I yelled. Silence was my only reply, and the blue face had vanished. **Answer me, dammit!**

Nothing.

What the hell!

No way could that have been a 'vision'. No damn way. It wasn't true, it _wasn't_.

'Onna?'

What was I supposed to tell him?

**I…**

'Bulma,' his voice softened. 'You know you can tell me anything. Haven't we established this already? It's only a dream.'

No, it was not a dream. It was a nightmare, and according to that weird, most likely right voice, it was soon to become a reality.

**I dreamt I was watching you rip off people's heads, Vegeta.**

Silence.

**I know it's stupid, since I just did that earlier today…or yesterday, I guess. But…Kami, it was so horrible…**

'Onna,' he sighed. 'You know…you know what I was before. You know I killed, you know I wiped out entire planets.'

**I know. And I swear, I'm not holding it against you…but I didn't want to watch it happen!**

'The universe is nothing but a playing field for war, Little One. You know I will have to kill Frieza, and Zarbon and Dedoria, all of them. You know they have to die, even all the worthless soldiers. Enough of them, and they'll make an army…I can't protect you against an entire army, Little One. I can only hold off so many at a time.'

**That's just it, Vegeta. I know that, and when that time comes I'm just going to suck it up and deal with it, or at least look away. But…they weren't soldiers, Vegeta. They were innocents. **

He fell into silence again, thinking carefully about how he wanted to reply.

'You know those planets I destroyed –'

**Were full of innocents, I know. **

'Do you hate me?' he asked.

I gaped at him…well, at my wall, but I was thinking about gaping at him. **Why would I hate you?**

'You aren't dense.'

**No, I'm a freaking genius. But Vegeta, we already talked about this…you know I could never hate you. I'm no better, anyway. Murder is murder, no matter the body count.**

I felt him bristle. 'Shut up. I don't want to hear any of that shit.'

**Well, it's true – **

'You are _not_ a murderer.'

**I **_**beheaded**_** someone today, Vegeta!**

'I don't fucking care!' he shouted. 'I don't give a shit what happened to that bitch! If you ever fucking call yourself that again I fucking swear I'll –'

**Vegeta, okay! Calm down,** I said, trying to sooth him. **I promise I won't say it again. But you need to stop asking me stupid questions in return, okay?**

He settled, if only slightly. I felt him heave a sigh, and sighed myself. **You are very dramatic, you know that? **I said.

He snorted. '_I_'m dramatic? Puh-lease. You're one to talk, Onna, throwing fits about girls talking to me.'

**You threw a fit when Zarbon talked to me. **

'That's entirely different!' he snapped.

**How so, fuzz butt?**

He hissed. 'Zarbon is a damn rapist –'

**So was that Cuzodae bitch.**

'Well, Cineé isn't!'

**And I was supposed to know that how?**

'The fact that I didn't smack her away.'

I bristled. **Your point?**

'Face it Little One,' he said smugly. 'You're practically obsessed with me.'

**Ooh, you jerk! I am not!**

'Are too!'

**NOT!**

'TOO!'

**JERK!**

'BANSHEE!'

**I hate you.**

'Love you too, Onna.'

I giggled, just a little. **That's why you kissed me, isn't it?**

There was a long, inevitable pause.

'Goodnight, Onna.'

I smiled and rolled back on my side, giggling softly into my pillow as I fell asleep a few minutes later.

* * *

><p>I don't know why I kissed her. Honest to God, I don't.<p>

I mean, her cheek was right _there_. I just did it, there was no thinking about it. I almost expected her to shy away, but she didn't.

That pleased me a bit.

Honestly, I'm surprised at myself. I was nervous to lick the jewels off of her, not just because I was afraid of hurting her, but because I was afraid to lose my self-control. But that's silly, because I shouldn't need to keep my self-control around her.

Right?

She kissed my jaw afterwards. I don't know why this time was different from all the rest, why it sent that fluttery feeling in my stomach just like the day before she left.

I remember she was so delighted when she found that my neck was ticklish.

_*Flashback*_

_**Can't you relax for two seconds?**_

"_Do you want me to beat Frieza or not?"_

_**I do, but you aren't going to get any closer to beating him if you beat yourself up first. **_

"_Wrong. I get stronger when my injuries heal, thus pushing me closer to our goal." _

_**Well, maybe I don't want to you go stronger that way.**_

_I stopped incessantly punching the air and stared at her. "Why not?" I demanded._

_She looked away from where she sat on the cot. __**I don't like seeing you beat yourself to a pulp only to crash at night and go back to it in the morning. **_

_I rose from the fighting crouch I'd frozen myself in and scratched that back of my neck as I studied the floor. Awkward silences suck, I'll tell you that. _

_She rose from the cot and sauntered over to me, poking my chest. __**Vegeta, we just had a bath two days ago and you're already sweaty and stinky. What am I going to do with you?**_

_I chuckled, until I felt her hand on my face. She looked me straight in the eyes, searching for something. I let her. As far as I was concerned, she already knew everything about me that a person could know. _

_She sighed, apparently not finding whatever she was looking for, and her hand slid to my neck, her thumb gently brushing my jawline. I shuddered quite visibly, and her eyes widened in surprise._

_**Vegeta…are you ticklish?**_

_Shit. _

"_No."_

_She ran her thumb over my jawline again, this time deliberately. I shuddered harder and took a step back, but she followed me._

_**I think your lying. I think you have a tickle spot. And I'm getting closer. Where is it?**_

"_I am __not__ ticklish," I insisted. Tickle spots indeed! Hmph. _

_**Everyone's ticklish somewhere, Vegeta.**_

"_Not true. Mother couldn't tickle Father if her life depended on it."_

_**OR **__**she didn't actually try very hard around **__**you**__**.**_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

_**Just that you father had a ticklish spot **__**somewhere**__** and you just never figured out where it is. Even if a person **__**could**__** be un-ticklish, you'd still be able to make them smile a little. **_

"_That doesn't mean you've found my so-called tickle spot, Little One." _

_**Wanna bet? **_

_Her hand glides across my neck quickly and effortlessly, her fingertips barely grazing my skin. A strangled gasp escapes my lips, and I jumped away again. _

_**Ha! **__She crowed. __**I knew it! You're ticklish!**_

"_And I bet you're a hundred times more ticklish than me," I snapped, my tail jerking irritably. "So unless you're a glutton for punishment, you'd best stay away." _

_She grinned wickedly. __**Oh, you're right. I'm horribly ticklish. Riiiiight here. **__And she pointed to her midsection…directly below her 13 year old breasts. And I mean __directly__._

_I almost shrieked, and she cracked up. _

"_You're lying!" I hissed. _

_**Nope! **__She snorted. __**Not one bit. I'm only ticklish on my ribcage. You can try if you don't believe me. **_

_I let out a very colorful string of curses, which she found highly amusing. __**Not up for it, Vegeta? C'mon, don't you like girls?**_

"_Vulgar woman!" I roared. _

_Her silent laugher echoed softly in the tiny space, though it was nothing but hysterical pants that reached my ears. __She laughed and snickered until tears were starting to stream out of her eyes. She brushed them away quickly, clutching her side. __**Kami, that was funny. You should have seen your face. Freaking priceless.**_

"_You will pay dearly for that," I prophesied. _

_**What? Are you going to tickle me?**_

"_Vulgar woman," I growled. _

_Bulma giggled again, smirking at me. Smug little bitch. _

_**I'm sorry, 'Geta. But it really was funny. Consider it payback for almost drowning me. **_

"_So I pushed you underwater for two seconds. Big deal." _

_**Big deal? I got an **__**eyeful**__**, Vegeta!**_

_My cheeks darkened considerably, my tail twitching with embarrassment. "No you didn't! You weren't even facing me!"_

_**Well, I **__**could**__** have been!**_

"_Stop it with your dirty talk, Onna!"_

_She scoffed. __**You think this is bad? You should have heard some of the girls at my school. They knew wayyyy too much for ten year olds – **_

"_Will you shut __up__?"_

_**Okay, okay! Sorry. **_

_She didn't __sound__ sorry. She sounded like she was trying not to smile. _

_I huffed, and folded my arms across my chest. Bulma snickered and hugged me. __**I love you,**__ she teased. __**You're hilarious. And…you are such a prude. **_

"_Can you blame me?" I muttered. _

_She froze for a second. Then her grip tightened substantially. __**God, Vegeta, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean – **_

"_Hush," I ordered. She clamped her mouth shut immediately. _

_Someone take a picture. I've made history._

_I sighed and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She sighed against my chest, her little arms still fastened tightly around my waist, my tail sliding across her forearm. _

_**Where will we go when we get out? **__She asked suddenly. _

_I closed my eyes. _

"_I…I don't know." _

_I didn't want to say Earth, though it was probably the safest place. If we escaped and I killed Frieza before it could be sold, then we wouldn't have to worry about hostile inhabitants. I didn't know how great its chances of being sold were, considering its location. But I didn't want to crush her hopes if it had already happened, or was well on its way to. _

_She sighed again and released me. I let go immediately, blushing at the thought of her thinking I wanted to hold her. I did, but I wasn't going to tell her that. _

_Of course, she wasn't done with her incessant cuddling. She pulled on my arm and forced me to sit on the cot, leaning against my shoulder as I complied. _

_**You reek,**__ she observed again. _

"_It must not be that bad, since you're all over me like this." _

_**You really are a prude if you think this is all over you. **_

"_Shut up." _

_She chuckled. __**Well, anyway, I still say you're ticklish. **_

"_Am not." _

_She traced her thumb just above my collarbone, skimming her fingers up my neck. I shuddered again and gave a low, warning growl. She just smiled into my shoulder and petted my tail, her smile widening as she earned herself a soft purr. _

_*End Flashback*_

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I lay back down and rolled onto my side. Cineé raised an eyebrow at me, then laid back down and went back to sleep.

I paid her no attention. I was busy thinking of a blue haired, nearly 14 year old girl who knew me inside and out, was far closer to me than I would have liked, and yet for some ridiculous reason seem to make me enjoy being near her.

"Vulgar woman," I murmured softly to into my mattress.

Maybe I'm just losing it, but I swear I heard her laughing at me in my head.

* * *

><p>That Saiyan sure is something. I mean, even with my ability, I didn't expect his power to go up to two million. And yet, even with all that, he is rendered helpless by a little blue haired girl with a power level equivalent to a Chromis fish.<p>

She is a pretty girl. A pretty Chikyuu girl for a pretty Saiyan boy. Blue hair isn't even common on our planet; most female Rikonans have either pink hair, green hair, or yellow hair like mine. Blue hair is normally given to the highest royals, or babes that are someday to be our greatest heroines. God will only ever give blue hair to special Rikos, or so legend says.

I sighed into my "blanket", absentmindedly scratching the birthmark on my right arm. Though we are two years apart, Orca also has this same exact birthmark, but on his left arm. My mother always said the mark of the Sunfish on both of us in such a way meant that we would do something great one day, but if that's the case, I don't see why we wouldn't have been gifted with blue hair.

I don't think blue hair has anything to do with Vegeta and the Chikyuu girl, Bulma, though. I simply think he is smitten with her.

I can't wait for these games to be over. Orca will win the Warrior's division, for sure. He is by far the strongest, and the smartest. I don't need my ability to know the last part. Orca is practically a genius.

I think I am plain, compared to my brother. God gifted me good looks, that's true, but my brother is simply stunning. Females always pinned after him…before we were captured. Not only this, but my brother is very strong, and very talented. I remember this one girl, (who I simply refer to as "It" because I had an extreme distaste for her and do not wish to invoke God by calling her what I really think of her) used to come after him all the time. Of course, being Orca, he never directly said no, but he was a very fast swimming so…well, you get the idea.

My brother is strong, talented, good looking, and what am I?

Frieza's whore.

I have never seen a more sick man than Frieza. I have to be glad that he saw me as prettier than Orca. As far as I know, he is the first to do so, and I am glad, for I would happily take this cruelty before I let anyone do this to my brother.

Poor Vegeta. I know he thinks the same thing of Bulma from Chikyuu. That much is obvious from his freak out when he thought her life essence had been stolen. The power that boy exhibited…God, it was terrifying. It just kept going up and up and up and up –

I lost count of his power level. That's how great it was. And his eyes…

He thinks that my eyes are strange, but I can assure you that no Rikonan's eyes have ever changed colors before, especially so drastically. Black to Coral Blue? How strange. His aura changed too. It was turning yellow, but then he realized Bulma was alive, and he returned to normal.

Frieza is sure to keep a close eye on Vegeta from now on. As well he should, for he and the Chikyuu girl are unbreakable.

It is fortunate that Orca does not have to worry of such things. Rikonans do not upgrade their powers from anger. It can fuel us, true, but it doesn't increase our power levels so drastically. Of course, such a phenomena might have helped us, the day we were captured…

_*Flashback*_

_I screamed. _

_Oh, our beautiful coral house! It has somehow been burned to a crisp, even underwater! We were so certain that our homes could never be burned because of the hydrated surroundings. How could this be happening?_

_God, Mother and the baby were __**inside**__!_

"_MOTHER!" I screamed in my native language. "MOTHER! MANTA!" _

_Manta is only a newborn! He can' t be gone!_

_I fused my legs together, and my shiny, pinkish purple tail formed at my hips. My silk shorts fuse with me, turning into a skirt. I am much faster in this form…I can dig them out, I know I can!_

_But my father's hands clamp on my arms, pulling me back. "Cineé! There is nothing you can do! Stop! You and your brother must get out of here now!"_

_What? Me and my brother? Why not me, my brother, and him?_

_Orion. My father's name meant "Son of Sacrifice, Son of Fire." And today, I knew that he would live up to that name, by distracting the monster who did this while my brother and I got away. _

_Tears streamed down my cheeks, mixing with the water of my destroyed home. I realized I was covered in damp soot, and I had cuts and bruises littering my body. _

"_Go, Cineé!" _

_Amymone. My mother's name meant "The Blameless One". She was so innocent. She did not deserve to die. _

"_Orca! Take your sister!" _

"_Yes, father!" _

_Manta. My baby brother's name meant "He Who Flies". My baby brother was a fast swimmer already, even as an infant. He would have been a great racer someday. _

_My father forced me into my brother's arms. I struggled, determined to stay, but my brother is far stronger than I am. His tail has already fused, his pants coming together like one leg to fit his fins. He grips my wrist, and with a flick of his tail, we are speeding away. _

_Orca. My elder brother's name meant "Warrior Child". He was as strong as a great shark, as fast as a dolphin, colorful as the coral that decorated Trident City. He was one of our best junior warriors, destined to be a great general in our army._

_Everything is falling down around us. Our kingdom's palace has crumpled to ruins, and fire is raining down from the heavens. It is Ki, I realized. And I thought, how foolish everyone was. If we could use Ki underwater, why wouldn't our enemies be able to? _

_Cineé. My name meant "The OceanBorn". Very vague, in my past opinion, but suddenly I realize that if my home didn't survive this onslaught, Orca and I might be the very last of our race, and Ocean Born would suddenly mean very much. _

_Perhaps that is why my name also meant, "Carrier of Legacy"._

_Orca swims so fast. I am still stunned into stillness, and eventually, my limp arm slips from his grasp._

_I have never fallen before. Never. Not even off my bed, have I ever fallen. I am not clumsy. And yet…_

_I'm falling. _

_But of course, Orca is faster. He darts underneath me and pulls my entire body into his arms and takes off once again. _

_We are just coming to the city gates, also made of thick coral. My whole life, I thought that those coral walls were un-breakable. How foolish I was._

_Orca makes it to the base of the wall and swims upwards rapidly, but they are so tall…and crumbling._

_We won't make it. _

_Just as we are about to reach the top, the wall makes a sickening __**crack**__. Orca freezes, staring at it. Another crack, and suddenly the walls are coming down around us. Orca crushes me to his chest and turns his back to the debris, shielding me. _

_I screamed as the coral hit his back, and we tumbled to the ocean floor, hitting rock bottom just as the pieces of the coral wall feel on top of us, and everything went black._

_I wasn't sure how long I'd been out, or how long it had been since I regained consciousness. All I knew was that it was dark, cold…_

_And utterly silent. _

_I look at Orca. He's waking up too. His eyelids fluttered ,revealing the set of hollow eyes that matched mine. We're both covered in dirt and grime, cuts and scratches. My shoulder top is ripped at the stomach and on the sleeves, my skirt is in shambles. Orca's pants are torn too, but he had no shirt on to protect his skin from the falling debris. That and the fact that he made himself into a shield for me clearly shows that his lifewater is escaping his body far more than mine is. Even as I think this, I can see red streams lining his skin._

_And it's so __**quiet**__…_

_Orca tensed suddenly, pulling me closer. I heard dull footsteps, and suddenly, the giant chuck of coral that was lying on top of us is moved away with ease. _

_I looked up in horror at a hideous lizard creature with black horns and purple skin. A pink tail swung from his waist, long and assertively dangerous. This was the first Ice-jin I'd ever seen, but it would not be the last. _

_His purple lips grinned at us in a firm, ugly line. "Hello," he said in Standard Language. "My name is Frieza. Who might you be?"_

_I gripped my brother, so tightly that I'm sure I hurt the dorsal fin that stops at his mid-back. Orca made an effort to shield my face underneath his arm, but the monster had already seen me. _

_Frieza snatched me by the hair, ripping me away from my brother. I shrieked, finally finding my voice again. _

"_Well, aren't you a pretty one?" _

_Orca lunged at the monster, drawing his fist back. Frieza held out one finger, a tiny spark of Ki dancing off his long purple nail. Orca froze. _

"_Oh, so you know what this is. Of course you do, what am I saying. Tell me, little Rikonans. Would you like to live?"_

"_Do not hurt Cineé," Orca said slowly in Standard, as if calming a wild shark. _

"_Cinee?" the monster said. "What a pretty name for a pretty girl. I think this one would make a good concubine, don't you think, boys?" _

_It was then that I noticed the five strange men in underwater suits standing behind the monster. Each one had a different color skin. One was green, one was blue, one was red, one was peach colored, and the last (and scariest) had purple skin and ugly horns. _

_They chortled at their master's comment, eyeing me hungrily. I whimpered. _

"_What's your name, boy?" the monster demanded. _

_Orca's eyes darted to me, then back to the six beasts. "Name is Orca, son of Orion and Amymone." _

"_Is this your girlfriend, Orca?" _

"_Cineé is Orca's sister." _

"_Ah. I see. So you wouldn't mind if I claimed her as mine, then?" _

_Orca snarled, baring his teeth. They sharpened to points, filling his mouth like that of a shark. "Cineé does not belong to Frieza!" _

_The monster snorted. "She does now. Tell you what, Rikonan. If you come and join my purging squad, I will let your sister live with me. How does that sound?"_

"_Sound like Orca cutting off Orca's own tail," my brother growled, "And Cineé's too." _

"_Okaaaay, guess I'll just kill her then –"_

"_NO!"_

"_So we have a deal, then?" _

_Orca clenched his fists, his arms shaking at his side as his tail darted back and forth angrily. "Orca will do as Frieza says," he muttered. _

"_Wonderful! Boys, take them back to the ship, will you?"_

"_Where would you like them, Lord Frieza?" The purple one asked. _

"_Oh, just throw them in one of the spare bedrooms near my quarters. I will send the boy off for training when I wish to…get to know the girl. Put the other's in the dungeons."_

_Others? _

"_Yes, Lord Frieza." _

_Frieza tossed me to the tall blue one, shoving my brother after me. We crashed together, and the five men took us back to Frieza's ship. They were seemingly fascinated with our ability to walk as we touched land. I suppose they figured we'd have to be carried the whole way. _

_In Frieza's quarters, I buried my face in Orca's shoulder and sobbed. He hugged me, his muscles shaking as he fought back the tears I'd already seen forming in his eyes. _

"_Orca," I said in our language, "What will happen to us?" _

_He hugged me tighter, and I noticed the green fins on his elbows had turned a dull yellow. That only happens when Orca is beyond discouraged, when there is nothing he can do about something, like when he is punished and cannot get out of it using charm like he always does. _

"_I am so sorry, Cineé. I…Please forgive me." _

_I sniffled, nodding into his chest. "I have nothing to forgive you for. You protected me well. The monster is stronger than we are." _

"_I know. I swear, I will do everything in my power to get you back." _

"_Will he take you from me?"_

"_Yes. But if we are lucky, the monster will allow our currents to cross sometimes, and we will see each other."_

_Silence reigned for what seemed like a long time. _

"_S'agapó, Orca." _

"_S'agapó, Cineé." _

_*End Flashback*_

My brother will win for me, I know he will. Orca always wins.

* * *

><p>I had no more dreams that night. My sleep was completely dream-free, and that's how I like it.<p>

It's day three of the tournament. That's three battles today, and the last one tomorrow. 7 more people to kill. I will use 7 more bullets. 10 max. I will be sure of it.

I decided to go to the Contenders Bench to watch some of the fights. I only paid attention to the Weaponries contenders…the other fights were far too brutal for me to watch.

Some red skinned bitches were staring at Vegeta so hard I thought their eyeballs would fall out of their heads. After earning themselves a murderous mental growl from myself, they got uncomfortable with all the malicious intent rolling off me and moved away from the window. Satisfied, I took my place and watched Vegeta, who in turn watched me. I smiled at him, and he smirked.

Typical.

Suddenly, a name carried over the speakers that caught my attention.

"AND IN CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 6 FEET, 132 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 4059, THE SHROUD FROM INARUI, CUZODAE!"

My attention snapped away from my Saiyan and back to the arena. I could tell that this bitch would be one of the best in the competition, and I needed as much of an advantage as I could get.

Cuzodae was facing off with some weird looking blue-skinned Lizard chick. The blue skinned one was taller, and seemingly stronger, but I knew very well that size had nothing to do with ability.

Cuzodae surprised her opponent by charging straight into the battle. The lizard was not expecting to her to run blindly in, and nearly dropped her gun. But Cuzodae had not run blindly in. She swerved away at the last second, drawing her weapon. A medium thin blade split into two twin swords, sparking as they did so. Cuzodae turned around and charged her opponent again, only to swerve away at the last second. She didn't appear to be doing anything, but each time she swerved away and came back, her speed increased. She was fast, disappearing in an out of sight like a shadow.

No wonder they called her a Shroud.

It was then that I noticed that she _was_ doing something. Her opponent's body jerked slightly each time she came at the lizard woman. Cuzodae turned and charged and swerved and turned again, faster and faster and faster.

Finally, she leapt up into the air and somersaulted. She came down swiftly, seemingly on top of her opponent, and suddenly, she was on the other side of the arena. She landed gracefully on her heels in a crouch, her arms held out away from her body, not a drop of blood on the twin blades.

Her opponent was completely still, and suddenly, the lizard's body literally feel apart. Blood spurted like a fountain, coating the tips of Cuzodae's silver hair. My eyes widened, and the lizard woman fell to the ground, dead and mangled.

I swallowed, and looked at Vegeta. He looked shocked. He turned to look at me, and a bead of sweat fell simultaneously from both our brows.

I turned back to the arena. Cuzodae winked at Vegeta, much to my chagrin, then turned to me. She smirked wickedly, bringing the tips of her hair to her mouth and licking the blood off.

I shuddered and fought the urge to throw up.

'Light.'

I glanced back to Vegeta. He was still watching me, no longer shocked, but instead looking determined.

**What?**

'Light. You are Light. She is a Shroud. She is Dark. Light always overpowers the dark. Even if there is nothing but a tiny match to light the way, you will always see it. So long as Light exist, Darkness can and will be penetrated, no matter how small the Light is.'

I gaped at him. When did Vegeta become a philosopher?

He gave me an undaunted grin.

'You are Light, and the Shroud will hide from you, as all darkness hides from the sun. You will overpower her easily.'

I nodded, regaining my composure.

**Thanks, Vegeta. **

But if I was light, then he was my fuel. He was the one who kept me shining, the one who kept me from going out. He was the match to my fire.

But what if it wasn't enough? What if she shredded me, like the lizard woman?

'Light can't be broken, Little One. She can't break what she can't touch.'

I nodded again.

He is right, but he forgot something. Alone, I am breakable, even if I am light. Alone, Vegeta is breakable, even if he is my fuel. Alone, everyone is breakable. But _us_? Together? Together, we couldn't shatter. We couldn't give up; it just wasn't in our nature.

Together, we were unbreakable.

And because Cuzodae is alone, she will be the one to break.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Kay, this is kind of a filler chapter. Some of you wanted Cineé and Orca, some didn't. Believe it or not it was a perfect tie. So I did half the chapter on them and half of it on B/V. Sorry if you wanted more. I'm pretty sure this will be all the character development for Cineé. Shiver will be more active in the next chapter.**

**Couple things. **

**1. Cineé's home…picture Atlantica from The Little Mermaid. **

**2. Lifewater is blood in Rikonan. **

**3. Frieza can breathe in space so underwater shouldn't be an issue**

**4. S'agapó means I love you in Greek**

**5. Orion is the son of Poseidon. Don't ask why the son of an Ocean God's name means Son of Fire. I guess in this case it can be used for Ki.**

**6. Amymone is one of Poseidon's many many many women (NO not Orion's mommy). Her name really does mean The Blameless One. **

**7. "Crossing currents" is the same as crossing paths. **

**Kay, I think that's it. Oh, and Orca has more fins than Cineé because he is male, like the ones on his elbows and the dorsal fin on his lower back. **

**I hope you guys liked the chapter. REVIEW! Let's see if we can make it to 200 this chapter, eh?**

**~KimiruMai**


	12. Not What We Should Be

**A/N: DUDES check it out!  
>Okay, so I don't really listen to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus that often, and frankly before today I only knew one of their songs. So I was like, hmm, I should listen to more of them. Last week, I was thinking, wouldn't it be cool as hell if I could find an alternate rock song to match ASTAC? And today I found the song by RJA called Angels Cry. And I'm just like…yeah, that's freaking awesome. ^^<strong>

**Listen to it or I'll sic Veggie-kun on you XD**

**By the way, this chapter's title comes from the Ke$ha song Animal. I honestly think it's her only really pretty, not dirty song. **

**Disclaimer: The fact that I am not Japanese should be enough.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Not What We Should Be<strong>

Bulma eyed her opponent, taking in the tall stature and muscular build. Vegeta had long ago helped her to train her eyes to detect the slightest movement; a great feat considering the darkness of their cell. Usoe, as her opponent was called, stood readied in a battle stance, his muscles twitching as he coiled them to spring. At this keen observation, Bulma gripped her sniper in her left hand, her right reaching for her belt.

Usoe reminded her of a grizzly bear. Not in the appearance aspect; he had deep, red skin and yellow hair, with a stubby snout and thin lips that reminded her of a Komodo dragon. His fingers were long , clawed, and slightly webbed, and he had deep, sea green eyes. But the reason he reminded her of a grizzly was because of the little movements she had picked up; he was large and burly, and though, like a bear, he would be unnaturally strong and fast in comparison to herself, he had one very obvious, very fatal flaw.

He was clumsy.

He wore the standard armor of Frieza's men; a cheap version of her own. It sickened her to think that the person who stood between her and her Prince was wearing the representation of Saiyan battle. She hardened herself, harnessing her anger to fuel her strength. She let her Ki infuse itself in her muscles, removing her dagger from her belt. With the force of a big league baseball pitcher, she hurled it at the man. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he sidestepped, the dagger missing him by 7 inches in the least.

This was good. This was what she'd been waiting for. She had thrown it at the center of his chest, right in between his lungs. Had it hit its mark, it would have pierced all the way through his spine, and even if the dagger was too short to come out the other side, it would have left him paralyzed and in agony while she delivered the final blow.

But it hadn't met its mark, and that was what she wanted.

Had he ducked instead of side stepping, he would have been fine. He could have dropped into a crouch, which she had no doubt that he was flexible enough to do so, and shot her dead from that position. But he did not. Instinct made him sidestep, because it was not aimed at his head. Had she aimed higher, he would have ducked.

But he did not.

And as his eyes flickered to the dagger that fell a good 60 yards behind him, Bulma raised her sniper in both hands and shot him in his abdomen.

A strangled cry escaped his lips, and his fingers fumbled his rifle-like machine gun. Gasping for breath, he reached for it as it clattered to the ground, only to see a flash of blue hair before it was roughly kicked away.

Bulma, now towering over him merely a foot away, brought her gun up, peering at him through the sight.

Bang,

Bang,

Bang,

and he finally fell dead. Inuotu aliens from Loru, such as Usoe, had thick skulls. Two bullets to make it to his brain; the third, which was to the heart, being nothing but a self-reassurance that he was truly dead.

Bulma retrieved her dagger and tucked it into her belt, ignoring the stench of blood that wafted to her nose as she past the corpse on her way back. Almost as soon as she stepped through the arena's barrier, a burly guard rushed in to removed the body from the playing field.

Four. This would be her fourth kill.

It got easier with every shot.

* * *

><p>His pain was not physical, but yes, he felt pain.<p>

He felt pain because he felt that his angel had been torn away, replaced by a killing demon, hardened and tainted by Satan's reincarnation. He did not understand how she could be his cheerful Onna one second, and the next turn into a completely focus, highly trained assassin.

How smart she was, to throw the dagger as a distraction. He had often used the technique himself before he'd been sent to the dungeons, using his Ki to push up dirt from whatever planet he had graced with his presence and pushing it into his opponent's eyes before he rushed them.

But he had never told her that. And from the look on the Ice-jinn princess's face, neither had she.

No, Bulma had figured this one out all on her own. She had it planned down to the last possibility.

But, something might've gone wrong. It scared him a little, that fact. Because if something went wrong, her last action in this world would have been attempted murder. Her last acts before that would be successful murder. All for him.

All for him, she might've been sent straight down to the depths of hell, into the horrific clutches of the Devil, while her soul withered and burned in agony.

All for him.

* * *

><p>Is it strange that I could read her tactics? I could tell by the stunned, somewhat appreciative looks she received that no one else could. But I knew what she was going to do.<p>

If, for whatever reason, Usoe _had_ ducked, he could have fired at her with no problem. Her safety shield might have protected her, but she has already shared it's weakness with me. If someone were to shoot her twice in the same spot, or even significantly close to the same spot, her shield would shatter, and she would be left quite vulnerable.

But I knew that she had a backup plan for this too. I couldn't see it, but I could _feel_ her leg muscles tensing to push her up into the air to avoid the shot, only to counteract it with a perfect, clear, un-prohibited shot to her opponent's head.

Usoe.

I don't know why his name, like the three before him, are planted in my mind as if someone spray painted them there. _Usoe, Saet, Roec, Kenor._ It's as if my conscious latches onto and buries the names of her potential killers, as if I am preparing myself to remember the name of her murderer so that I may avenge her once free.

I don't want to think like that, and I curse myself for doing so. I should not have to remember any names at all; what's the point? She'll beat them every one of them. Like I've told her, those people are going to get their asses _handed_ to them.

I have no reason to worry.

None at all.

* * *

><p>After I've rinsed the bile from my mouth, I fixed my blue hair in the mirror and headed to the cafeteria.<p>

Note: do not try to consume food after skillfully killing a soldier, even if he/she belongs to the Planet Trade Organization. The taste of my own vomit stains the already nasty food, and I end up wasting a good 10 credits.

As a side-thought, I personally find it humorous that on Earth, it was bad to use credit cards for everything. And yet, here in space, cash is so rarely accepted, simply because Credit Chips are completely universal.

It's easier to take your mind off the war and killing if you think of really stupid, trivial things from your past, or present. Never your future though. In this kind war, _never_ concern yourself with the future. You think of the here and now, that's it. On battle fields such as this, only here and now matters. If you think of your past, you are only to think of the training you received. Here, in the Games, if you think of your future, all you see is blood.

And the next thing you know, you're in Otherworld, being judged at the throne of God.

* * *

><p><strong>Vegeta…<strong>

I'm not sure why I like the way she purrs over my name. I don't think she realizes she's doing it, but whenever she says my name, she whispers it, like she's afraid her mere breathing will blow it away.

I do not like to be thought of as delicate. But, only for her, I will accept being slightly vulnerable.

'Onna,' I whispered back.

**I can't eat.** She doesn't tell me this to complain, but to ask what she should do.

'Drink water.'

She does, and eventually, she can force the cafeteria food down her throat.

She lifts her head in the physical realm, smiling at me in our mental one. **When we are free**, she says suddenly, **I'm going to make you chocolate chip cookies, and you will love them even if they taste like concrete.**

I laughed. 'Onna, even I can't eat concrete, and I'm a Saiyan. Don't get your hopes up.'

**I make some killer cookies, though. I used to help my mom make them, and they'd smell so good when they were cooking. I remember they would just melt in your mouth, and even milk couldn't fully wash the taste away.**

'Fine, I will try your concrete cookies. But only if you try my cement Itsúdikío.'

She chuckled. **Oh, the Mighty Prince of Saiyans can cook**, she snickered.

'Didn't you hear me? I said cement.'

She smiled. **Yes, I heard you, fuzzy butt. There better not be any stray fur in that Itsúdikío, got it?**

'…I am thoroughly insulted.'

She laughed again.

I wish that, just once, I could hear it in the flesh, a real sound that rings in my ears, one that isn't riddled with sorrow, pain, hate, and shame.

* * *

><p>He's always extra gentle with me right after a battle, after a kill.<p>

It's sweet of him, really. He makes sure he doesn't play with me too much as to let loose my emotions, though I suppose that could be to avoid a retaliation of verbal slaughter.

He picks his words carefully before he speaks; I can tell by fraction of a second that he pauses before he sends me a thought. He debates which ones should build my self-confidence, which ones should downgrade my filthy opponents, and which ones should make me laugh.

I like to think that Vegeta and I would be the popular kids in high school, were we ever given the chance to go. I smiled to myself, picturing it. I'd be the preppy, smart, cute blue haired girl, with cute miniskirts, pink sweaters, and high heeled cowgirl boots, and he'd be the distant, punk rock kid that keeps his awesome grades under wraps, always in a leather jacket and loose jeans that rested low on his hips, driving to school on a motorcycle with a stud in one ear.

I bit my lip to fight back a giggle. Okay, so Vegeta wouldn't touch an earring if his life depended on it, but I bet he'd like motorcycles and leather, at least.

That is…if there were any left.

I blinked back my tears and squared my shoulders, glaring daggers at a male contender who thought it'd be okay to stare at me. Surprisingly, he turned his head quickly.

'He's scared of you,' Vegeta chuckled. I grinned, blinking as I felt him see through my eyes.

**You think so?** I snickered.

He snorted. 'Of course. Look at him, he's practically trembling. As far as he's concerned, one wrong look and you'd beat his ass.'

**I wouldn't touch an ass that ugly with a ten foot pole. Don't make me gag.**

He let out a bark of laughter. I started to smile, until he spoke his reasoning.

'So,' he chuckled, 'Only my ass is good enough, huh?'

**You bastard, **I growled. **You better be glad we aren't in Being, or I'd hit you.**

'Ooh, scary.'

**Jerk.**

'Banshee.'

The corners of my lips twitched up in a smile at our regular verbal spar. But, also as usual, something in his voice was off. It was always off after I fought.

**Vegeta, you have to let this go already –**

'It's not fair, dammit!' he snarled suddenly. It amazes me how he can go from laughing and joking to snarling and growling in under ten seconds. Maybe it's a Saiyan thing.

But somehow, I doubt it.

**Well, I know that, but life isn't fair. I know this is hard; I didn't even think aliens existed three years ago, and yet, here I am. But I've learned to accept it, and if I can do it, then surely you can too.**

'I will _never_ accept this,' he growled. 'Never. I will kill him for making you do this.'

**No one is making me fight,** I insisted. **I chose to fight. I chose to fight for you, and don't you ever think anything different. **

There is an almost sickening silence.

Then, 'I was supposed to protect you.'

I am not shocked by this statement. He has been saying things like this often lately. Instead, I shook my head at him.

**No, Vegeta. We are supposed to protect each other, and I ****will**** do my part. **

He is still not pleased, but he accepts this.

Life is not fair. That much is certain. I was not supposed to live this kind of life. I was not supposed to kill 10 people by the age of 13, nor was I supposed to become Frieza's whore. Vegeta's world was not supposed to be destroyed, his father was not supposed to be killed, and he was not supposed to become Frieza's pleasure slave. But, had none of this happened, I would have never met him.

Is meeting one person really worth all this? Should it be worth all this?

No.

But despite the ugliness of our situation, there is a beauty to it.

I love what we are, who we are, together, now. I love the concept of us as is. I love us how we are, not how we should be.

I suddenly hear a clanking behind me. Everyone in the entire room has dropped onto one knee. Shiver glared at them mildly, her tail swishing behind her in a slightly frustrated manner until she saw me.

**Vegeta,** I thought to him, **I'm going to hang out with Shiver for a little while, okay? I'll talk to you later. **

A cagey growl echoed in the back of my mind. 'If you need help –'

**Call for you, I know. Don't be such a worry wart. **

'Strange creature,' he muttered at the strange idiom. I chuckled, and waved to Shiver. The other contenders gasped at my audacity, glancing to her to see if she would blast me to pieces. Instead, she strolled over to me cheerfully, looking quite proud of herself.

"I have trained you well," she grinned.

I smirked. **Or I'm just naturally awesome, one or the other.**

"I'm almost positive it's the former."

We laughed. It's nice, laughing. It's like medicine for broken souls.

I think, however, that Vegeta's laugh helps me more than Shiver's does. With Shiver, laughing is just a common action between good friends, but with Vegeta, laughter is almost like a drug. I would do anything to make him laugh. Genuine laughter, I mean. He so rarely laughs unless he's snickering or mocking someone.

We walked and talked about nothing in particular, upgrades to the transport system or whatever Frieza had done recently to piss her off, things like that. Eventually, I felt myself getting restless, and I cleaned and tweaked my weapons, even my dagger, while Shiver continued on in a tirade of words.

Of course, Shiver doesn't stick to trivial conversation for long during times like the Games.

"So how's Vegeta?"

I shrugged. **As good as a potential sex slave could be, I suppose. **

She frowned. "That's not what I meant."

**What else is there? **I sighed, wiping away the dark cleaning oil from the muzzle of my sniper.

"I saw him kiss you."

**Yeah, and I kissed him too. We do that. It's not a big deal. **Lies. I've only really kissed him twice, and him to me only once.

"So it's not like…romantic, or anything?"

**No. **That was a lie too, and I knew it. I found myself surprisingly disappointed with my answer, on top of things. Did I _want_ it to be romantic? I didn't want Vegeta to _like_ me, did I? But if I didn't, how did that explain the fluttery feeling I got when I felt his lips against my cheek? I thought about special moments that I'd tucked deep into my memory for safekeeping. It suddenly occurred to me that we did touch more that we probably should, and we teased each other with sexual innuendoes more than average "best friends" did. We held each other, slept side by side together, whispered in each other's ear.

Was it romantic?

No, of course not. Vegeta was far too prideful for that, wasn't he? And weren't we too young to be romantically involved? 13 years and 14 years, never mind the fact that we would both age a year in the next three months.

"_You don't make me nervous, but you are making my self-control substantially weaker."_

What was that supposed to mean? His self-control was perfect. I realized then, that he found me attractive, just as I did him. But was it that deep, or just teenage hormones on the run? Besides, when was the last time either of us had seen someone else that looked as we do? Wasn't it natural that we found the other a little bit attractive? Were we not just best friends going through trouble?

Best friends could fight for each other, right? Would it be any different if my friend Ana, or Jess were in his place?

Stupid question. Of course it would. Because if Ana or Jess or even Michael and Zach had been here, we would all be mentally insane and broken. Vegeta was the one who had kept me strong, hopeful.

On Mom's soap operas, they would always tell the teenagers that they couldn't be in love because they were too young. And maybe they were, but that didn't apply here. With the life Vegeta and I were forced to live, we were far more mature than most adults on Earth could ever have hoped to be.

So, was I capable of truly loving another person that way? Hell yes, I was.

Did I love him?

"Are you sure?" Shiver asked skeptically.

No, no I was not.

* * *

><p>Her silence was enough to tell me the answer. She was not sure.<p>

She seemed to be deep in thought, and hardly talked (or thought, rather) for the rest of our conversation. Eventually, I left her to her thinking and rejoined my father and – gag – brothers on the Royal Balcony.

"And where do you keep disappearing to?" my father asked.

"To chat with a friend."

"You mean with _my_ whore," Frieza muttered.

I glared at him. "She isn't your whore yet, so I can talk to her if I want, right Daddy?" I grinned at our father, who always found our verbal spats amusing.

Sure enough, he was chuckling to himself. "I don't see why not. The girl seems like a fine piece of work. Better than you talking to mindless soldiers."

I shot Frieza a look that clearly said 'Ha!' and turned back to the arena just in time to see a soldier in the Warrior's Division brutally skewered by another's fist.

Gross.

There are four Divisions in the Games. There is the Weaponries Division, which Bulma is in. You, of course, can only use weapons, and no Ki. The power level range can go from 0 to 5000 or so. Then there is the Soldier's Division. Here you can use weapons _and_ Ki, and the range goes from 5000 to 10,000. The last two divisions are for Ki fighters only; no weapons allowed. The only reason they are split is because of the difference in power levels. The third is the Warrior's Division. The range is 10,000 to 30,000. The Rikonan girl (Cineé, I believe her name is; I know _all_ my brothers' whores) has an older brother that fights in this division, and I'm fairly sure he will win. The last division is the Elite's Division, which is 30,000 levels and up.

I turned to find the Saiyan boy talking to the Rikonan girl. I knew that Bulma knew about her, but I would have never let another woman near _my_ mate, even if she didn't have a sexual attraction to him.

I will admit, however, that I see why _she_ is attracted to him, and even why my brother uses him so, not that it is an excuse. Vegeta carries himself like the Prince he is, with proud, broad shoulders, defined muscles, and sharp features. He looks as if he has been carved from bronze-painted marble, each crevice of his muscled body carefully chiseled. He is lean, which serves to tell me that he is, naturally, incredibly fast, and his power spurt from yesterday tells me that he is stronger than my brother thought possible.

If I were my brother, I would have sent this boy straight into the military instead of keeping him as a concubine. He would serve a much better purpose on the battle field, as all Saiyans long to. My brother is a fool for doing otherwise, and I told him so.

"Why did you not send the Saiyan child to war?" I asked snobbishly. "It's stupid of you to waste such talent."

Frieza snorted. "Perhaps, but he is talented in areas other than war, not that he cares to prove such things to me. And pray tell, dear sister, when you figured out he had these "talents" you speak so surely of?"

My brother's voice sickens me. It is disturbingly sweet, and I tensed, knowing it was fake. Of course, he wouldn't attempt to attack me with Father right here, but that wouldn't stop him from giving me a good swat against the nearest wall later. I briefly wondered if Bulma would find our sibling spars violent. To us, it is just roughhousing, but I imagine it must look like torture and bloodshed to others.

"I saw it plenty," I huffed, "when Zarbon dragged him to your quarters, who by the way also saw plenty when he came back with half of his face burned off. The boy has a substantial amount of anger bubbling under his skin, and I imagine it would get the purges done at least 15% more efficiently." The way I saw it, if Vegeta had been sent to battle, he would have done it as quickly as possible in order to get back to Bulma.

Frieza shrugged. "I suppose, but that also gives him time to train on the offside, which I have no doubt he'd do. And I prefer to keep him here, where I can watch him."

Cooler, who'd been silently observing the Games until now, snickered. "Fuck him, you mean," he chortled. "And as much as I hate to admit it, Sister-dearest it right. A Saiyan should be on the battlefield getting his hands dirty rather than living in luxury in the presence of Ice-jinns."

Frieza seemed to be thinking about that. "Eh, I suppose," he said carefully. "But I do worry about the little energy spurts he's been having recently. It makes me wonder if I really have any clue as to what his limits are."

"What are you, an Ice-ling? Make him raise it as high as he can, and there you go," Cooler snickered.

Frieza rolled his beady eyes, propping his head up on one hand. "Yes, because there is no possible way for him to take it up to half-strength and say it's his best. Thank you for that word of wisdom, dear brother."

Cooler opened his mouth to say something sharp back, but Father interrupted.

"Children, children, children. Why all this bickering? Pay attention to the Games, boys. You're missing all the action."

They both looked back across the balcony, but I could still see that my brother had his thinking face on.

"I wonder if he really would serve me better on missions," he murmured, his purple eyes locked on the Saiyan Prince. "I would hate to have my favorite damaged in war, but I suppose I could always exchange him for the blue haired girl."

I froze.

"Saiyans _are_ bred for battle," he muttered, almost incoherently. He looked up at me suddenly. "Shiver, darling, do you really suppose I could get more use of out of him in battle?"

Dammit. I'd only meant to mock him a little, shame him. I should have realized it would backfire on me.

"Do I look like I give a shit?" I said nonchalantly, keeping my eyes on the ring.

He snickered. "No, I suppose not. Whether I keep Vegeta around for fucking or not, it's my business."

I bit my lip to keep from verbally lashing out at him. Sick bastard, who does he think he is? But at least he seemed to abandon the notion. Me and my big mouth; no wonder Bulma tells me, "Would you shut up for two seconds?" so often.

I glanced at the Saiyan again. As if feeling me watching him, he looked up, and a scowl appeared on his lips.

_I am watching you,_ that scowl said. _I am watching you, and if you hurt her, I will track you down and kill you. You have been warned; I am watching you._

I swallowed. I was more powerful than he, I knew that much. I was only a million under Frieza. And yet, I have never seen a more frightening glare from anyone. I have to fight back a shudder at the mere intensity of it; the fire in his eyes blaze furiously at me, even from here. And the worst part?

He was dead serious.

* * *

><p>My sister has never been one to love battle. I shall never understand why she doesn't relish in the torment of others, the bloodshed of so called innocents. She is like a delicate, white flower; pristine and innocent, with no sin. Rest assured, she has killed many a time before, but it was always quickly, if not by accident. The fact that she is a bastard child does not help me favor her any more. I cannot fathom why Father melts in her hands like water.<p>

After all, I am much more powerful, more like him. Why does he not treat me with the same approval? When it comes to Shiver, Cooler doesn't even make the mark as far as competition goes. The girl is danger with pink eyes and lips, but under the pretty colors and innocent looks, she is a demon with sharp fangs, just like the rest of us. She must be, for she is an Ice-jinn, and no amount of head injuries will change the fact. She _must_ love blood, must drink it.

I called for a servant, swirling the wine after it was poured into my golden goblet. My lips twitch in amusement as I bring it up to drink, brushing my thumb over the small Saiyan insignia on the side. This was Vegeta's – the father – favorite glass. It was the first thing I took after I killed him, and after that, I took his son.

I must say, I am pleased with my timing of wiping out the Saiyans. Had I done it a few years earlier, my little pet would have been of no use to me. He would have been far too small to do much except mindless killing.

One reason I sent him to the dungeons was just that. Vegeta killed far too quickly for my taste. He took no time to slowly torture his victims, just _flash_ and they were gone. Efficient as far as purging goes, but informational missions? He would kill the leaders of Resistances before they told him anything. The boy has no control, no training. Perhaps I should school him in the art.

I thought of what my sister said, that I was a fool for not sending him to war. It isn't surprising that she would say such, just to mock me, but I honestly think it might be a valid point.

Of course, I would never tell her that.

Still, I do not regret keeping him as long as I did. He has brought me much pleasure in his stay, much release. He is a fiery one, that Saiyan-ling. No matter what I do to him, he refuses to break. He even drew blood from me, once. Subconsciously, I rub my hand against my lower lip. His punch had left a small, purple bruise, which I was not pleased with. But I did find it amusing that he would dare to strike me. What audacity, as if his dead princely title gives him authority to do so.

I frowned then, remembering _why_ he had punched me. I was fairly certain that his sudden bout of rage had not come from my manhandling him; if that were the case, it would have happened earlier. Something about the Games had pissed him off. Perhaps he was afraid that the girl would be unprotected.

Foolish monkey. I have given strict orders that only I am to touch her.

Of course, those harem guards _are_ a reckless bunch; I should have them disposed of, and replace them with new ones.

I tried to focus on the Games, where an Elite soldier was currently breaking off each and every finger from his opponent's hand, a method I have ordered or personally done myself many a time. I can hear the Elite screaming in agony through the glass, begging his opponent to finish him. Already his limbs have been either shattered or removed, and nearly half of his face is gone. The winning elite has dipped his hands in the blood, painting the floors with it after he painted his own face. A magnificent sight, it is. I distinctly remember bringing in his killer, and having Ginyu personally train him. I do think he just might win the Elite division this year.

The only thing about these events that I regret is that I often lose my best generals. They have seen some of my whores stark naked either going to or leaving my quarters, and I know they can't help themselves from wanting what only the best can have, but honestly, I need some of these people.

Speaking of whores…

I cannot fathom why my attention has been focused on the monkey prince so often these last two days. Perhaps it is the nagging thought that I have not taken him to bed in more than two months, or the strange yellow aura that engulfed him yesterday. My ancestor, Chilled, was killed by a Saiyan…it is said to be a rumor, and that he really died from disease, but I am not sure.

"_Tell my family, beware of the Saiyan whose hair flashes blonde…"_

I am fairly sure that Vegeta's aura was blue before, so there was no reason for it to be yellow. I have watched Saiyans grow into men (other races have ridiculously short lifespans), increasing their power as they grew, but their auras always remained the same color. I do wish I knew precisely what the boy is capable of. I do not like to admit it, but he is making me nervous, if only slightly.

My brother accuses me of acting like an Ice-ling, but he has no Saiyans in his harem, so he is one to talk. Cooler will never be the Tyrant that my father is, that I am. He kills as mindlessly as Vegeta, if not worse. He takes no time to have pleasure in the slow, brutality of it all; controlling the universe is a board game to him. Just move the pieces, sit back and sip your wine, and if you get knocked back to Start, then you shrug and deal the next card.

Not me. I am in for the win, to get as much land as I can and bring it underneath me. It is my duty, I think, to expand my empire and right the universe of its wronged thinking. Peace is nothing but an illusion; chaos is reality, and if my idiot brother will not do it, then it is my responsibility to take the worlds under my wings and strip them of the cruel fantasy that binds them.

I have so many ways of bringing them into the light.

I must have rubbed off on Vegeta. Surely he must have been training the girl; it isn't possible for someone as weak as she to become so skilled in fighting. I know my sister has trained her as well, but even so, she is far too practiced for only two months of training.

How clever, I think, of her to use the dagger as a distraction. If I remember correctly, Vegeta has used the same tactic during mano-a-mano fighting. She has potential to be an excellent assassin, even for a weakling. Perhaps these Games will shed her of any remaining fantasy of peace or hope that the monkey might've instilled in her, and show her the way as well.

But this is not the only thing I notice about this girl. She is the female who's name Vegeta calls when I touch him. She is the reason he hit me, I am sure. She is the reason he screamed in rage and broke his collar, the reason that yellow aura swallowed him whole yesterday.

She is his weakness, and he is hers.

Interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am fairly pleased with this, although I think I could have made Frieza a little darker. Eh, maybe when you read it in his voice instead of mine it will make a difference, sick bastard. As I promised, more Shiver this chapter.**

**LOL, don't you love it when Bulma and Veggie try to deny each other but just end up being pulled closer? XD**

**By the way….**

**YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A VERY LARGE HINT. DO NOT MISS IT. **

**Also…**

**DO NOT FORGET TO LOOK UP THAT SONG.**

**Furthermore, I am awesome. **

**Just kidding. **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	13. Play With Fire

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing my story as often as you have, and I thank you all so much for waiting patiently while I overcame my horrendous writer's block. I love you all and I really do read every single review at least three times, even though I can't possibly respond to all of them. **

**Disclaimer: If you are going to sue somebody, sue God. I dare you. He's the one that gives me the words to put on the paper. I just hold the pen. **

**Chapter 13: Play With Fire**

* * *

><p>Usoe's blood wasn't red, as I expected. It was a slimy green color, like water from a swamp. It was sticky, and took me forever to get out. Even now, nearly three hours after battling him, I can still see a little gory goo on my boots, and tiny drops on the lower half of my pants.<p>

Death…murder…is such a revolting thing.

I know Vegeta does not approve of me killing (hypocrite), even if it were to mean his freedom, but I do know that he loves watching me fight. While only Saet and Usoe had provided me with any effort, I did use some good tactics to finish them quickly. Each time, I could feel pride rolling off him in waves, though it was mixed with the anger of me being in the Games in the first place. But the pride was there, nonetheless.

Sometimes I think he wants to compliment me on my quickly achieved skills, but that would also mean complementing my killing abilities, so he is silent.

But I can still feel his pride.

I still have no clue why I feel his emotions so well. He is skilled at hiding them, never revealing anything to anyone other than a scowl and/or snarl. Mysteries such as these belong in the same category as my now blue aura. And...and my skills, now that I think about it. Maybe when Vegeta shares his Ki, his subconscious, Saiyan- born battle instinct got passed to me too.

It makes sense, but that still doesn't explain what's causing it, nor why it happens.

Ah, puzzles.

I start fiddling with my watch at a repair station, only bothering to cover my work from passing Contenders. It's a small room beside the training area (you wouldn't believe how many places there are for people to use for this tournament) with only basic parts to use, but the tools themselves are nicely advanced. They do this to make sure people only make repairs, and not improvements.

Then there are the cameras.

They aren't discreet, either. Even now, I'm glaring at a giant camera bolted into the worktable. I watch carefully as the lens refocused on my face, and I flip it the bird before turning back to my watch/shield, smirking to myself. I wonder what watchman I've pissed off this time.

The first time I used the repair room was after my battle with Saet, after she shot me. Her first attack only stirred up dust, since I flew out of the way before it hit (thank you, Vegeta) but the second shot actually pierced my armor. If anyone hits me near my sternum again, my shield will break, and they'll be able to shoot me dead easily and without any effort.

I have to fix it.

If I could only find a way to reverse the effect…

But the damn camera watches my every move, and the stupid thing spins three hundred and sixty degrees, so I can't even disable it from behind (which I am perfectly capable of doing otherwise).

Still, at least being able to fix it would be nice…

Otherwise…

I have to pray they aim for either my lower stomach…

Or for my head.

* * *

><p>I am slightly…okay, immensely relieved when I see the Ice-jinn princess reappear on the balcony barely 15 minutes after she disappeared. It tells me Bulma is unharmed, as blood on pure white skin would be a bitch to get out. I would know if Bulma were dead – a feeling in my gut, I suppose – but one of those damn practice rooms is Ki proof, so I can't feel her energy. I had decided not to tell her the room is Ki resistant; it would only make her worry and hinder her training. She needs to have perfect focus while she does whatever it is she's doing. I sent a glare to the Ice-jinn for good measure, and I am pleased when she suddenly looks nervous. She has gotten the message; hurt Bulma and you die, regardless of power levels.<p>

I would know if she were dead.

Cinee nudged me with her elbow, her strange, hollow eyes locked on the arena. I followed her gaze, suddenly interested in the battle.

Orca was fighting.

Honestly, this battle is a joke. Orca fought an alien from Planet Blaze (horrid place), and the Blaze's pitch black skin was literally on fire, as those in his race always are…

Until Orca shot a Ki blast and put his fire out. Also, literally.

Rikonans are strange creatures. Recently, I made a discovery about them. That discovery being that they can turn their Ki into water. I've no idea how that's even remotely possible without using the water from their very bodies, which would most definitely kill them considering body composition, but they do it. It's the strangest thing.

Once the Blaze's flame is extinguished, Orca chokes him by wrapping his face in a thick stream of water Ki, until the opponent opens his black lips to gasp for air. As he does so, the water drains into his mouth and down through his nostrils. He claws at his throat and pounds at his chest, trying desperately to get the water (which is slowly turning back into boiling Ki) out of his windpipe, but it's too late. His lungs have collapsed from either being filled to the brim with water, or burning from the inside out with Ki.

Probably some crazy combination of both.

I don't know why Orca drowned him. Such a horrible, humiliating way for a soldier to die, but still. He could have easily burned his head off with Ki alone, or broken his neck with his bare hands. Thanks to Cineé's transferred ability, I know he's more than strong enough to do so, what with a power level of roughly 29,990. He's lucky; a few more levels and he would have been the very weakest of the Elite division.

When Orca turns away from the body to give his sister a bright smile, I get my answer. That's when I swore that I would never let Bulma see me kill; never would I let her see blood on my hands like she did in her dreams.

Now, I just have to pray to God that Frieza doesn't force me to break that promise.

* * *

><p>I try my very best not to kill violently in front of my sister. She would not like to see my fins coated with blood.<p>

Poor Cineé. She has never had the stomach for battle. She either becomes sick, or she completely freezes. She becomes like a dolphin trapped in ice.

Dolphins are such lively creatures when free.

I was named for a warrior dolphin. I've heard legends of such creatures on multiple planets, but I can't help thinking that orcas on Riko Oceyi are the strongest, fastest, and cleverest…or I would, were there any left.

Honestly, I prefer that my sister become sick at the sight of death. True, it is not pleasant to see her double over spilling her breakfast, especially not from her point of view, but I would take that any day over seeing a perfect copy of her expression the moment she realized that Mother and Mana were crushed in our coral house.

She doesn't realize that she was whispering names that day. I heard her list the name and meaning of all five of us until she got to herself, upon which she fell silent.

Cineé. My sister's name means Ocean Born, Carrier of Legacy. It is true that we are some of the last of our kind, but what Legacy was she destined to carry? Do we even have a legacy anymore?

When I was a child, I believed I was unstoppable. When Rikonans are born, our mothers have visions of what we will be best at, and our names will be pertaining to that skill. So, naturally, I believed I would be a strong warrior, a fighter that my people would tell legends of years after my death. Then Cineé was born, and suddenly my name wasn't special. What use was strength or speed if you had no Legacy to swim to, to fight for?

I am certain that Cineé will be great, but am I to be great with her, or just a simple bystander who had the foolishness to believe he would be remembered?

I ran my fingers through my blonde hair as I left the arena, flashing my sister a cheerful smile before I did so. She returns it, saying something to the Saiyan boy excitedly before turning back to me with admiration in her eyes.

Cineé does not freeze or become sick when I fight. "It is you destiny to always come out victorious in battle," she always tells me. "It does not sicken me to see you fulfill your destiny, even in these harsh circumstances."

My sister is crazy.

Perhaps it does not make her sick, but it makes _me_ sick that she is forced to watch. I don't know how she can take it on the Prizes Bench, with nothing else to watch but murder. She has stopped getting sick, as one must when living with Frieza, and since she only freezes at the death of someone she knows, I suppose she has become strong enough to take it. Perhaps the Saiyan also keeps her mind off things as well. He is young, perhaps two cycles less than Cineé, and 6 cycles less than I, but…

In this time and age, is it strange to worry that another male might take my sister from me, when she is all I have left?

And worse, that she might go willingly?

* * *

><p>My beautiful brother misunderstands.<p>

He thinks I enjoy watching him fight because he kills the soldiers responsible for the destruction of our home, but that is not so. I love to watch him fight because he is the only one who kills gently.

My brother, Orca, who has the power of his namesake a thousand times over, kills gently, and that shows me that even under mind-shattering circumstances such as these, he is still the pretty, pure and pristine boy that got caught in the pastry cabinet countless times trying to steal a coral cake for us to split before dinner when I was five cycles old.

* * *

><p>This is so <em><strong>boring<strong>_!

Seriously, I cannot fathom why my idiot brothers enjoy this. Punching teeth out and tearing off heads for sport; preposterous! If those soldiers need a whore that badly, then they should just visit the damn harems. I mean, sure, some of Frieza and Cooler's "pets" are pretty hot, but enough to kill for, to die for?

These people need hobbies. Pronto.

Honestly, they're practically exploiting themselves for others entertainment, and for what? Six months of pleasure that will surely be outweighed by a lifetime of war. Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather have a two way thing going, not just someone lying limp while I did as I pleased. It's hardly stimulating. And besides that, I'd rather have money, and even that is undeniably foolish.

I guess Frieza has to get rid of people who might pose a threat to him. True, even the highest Elite wouldn't stand a chance against him, but it is the principle of the matter. No one has any way of knowing Frieza's power level outside the family, simply because scouters have a small tendency to explode when reading any level over 700,000. Any power over that (what little there is) is so immense that the little machines can't handle it all.

I can't help but note the gap in the power levels of the universe. It is a steady stream from zero to five or six hundred thousand, then _**void**_, then me, Frieza, Cooler, and Daddy, though the boys like to argue about the order of that.

Not that my position ever changes…

But still, there is no one in between. No one that I know of has even surpassed nine hundred thousand outside the Ice-jinn community. No one has reached a million yet.

I have to wonder how Bulma and Vegeta plan to defeat my brothers. The last reading I had on the Saiyan boy was five hundred thousand and climbing rapidly, so much so that my scouter came close to shattering. But he stopped before it could, so I have to assume he is in the six hundred thousands or so. Impressive, but not anywhere close to Frieza, or even me. I suppose I should ask Bulma, but I don't want to crush what little hope she has by comparing them.

I mean, if he hasn't even hit one or two million yet, how will they even hope to land a single punch?

* * *

><p>Oh, how wonderfully perfect!<p>

I swirled my wine in my golden, Saiyan goblet, a wicked smile spreading over my lips. I've been thinking about what my dearest sister had tried to insult me with, as well as my own personal discovery about my sweet pet, when it hit me. I've truly outdone myself this time.

Oh, Vegeta is so fun to taunt. I can just picture the look on my sweet Prince's face when his precious sixth month with the little blue haired vixen are up.

And I do hope she wins…otherwise, that would take the fun out of the torment.

* * *

><p>Seeing Vegeta in Being always brightened her more than crappy days.<p>

'Hello, Little One,' he said, forcing a small smile.

She hugged him immediately, smiling when she felt his tail curling around her waist.

**Hey, fuzzy butt. **

He growled low in her ear. 'If you aren't going to use my Princely title, then you could at least come up with a better nickname than t_hat_, Little One."

**Why? Does it bug you? **she teased, brushing the back of her hand against his soft fur. He began to purr immediately at the contact, nuzzling her jaw as he did so.

'Yes, as a matter of fact, it does,' he said curtly, feigning irritation. 'So find a new one before I get angry.'

Another smile found its way onto her pink lips. **I can't take you seriously when you're purring, **she said. **That didn't sound threatening at all.**

A deep chuckle vibrated through his chest along with the soft rumble she loved so much. 'Quit petting my tail then,' he said, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk.

Bulma laughed into his firm neck, fighting back a second snicker when he shuddered. **I never said I didn't like it, you ass. I like it when you aren't serious all the time.**

He scoffed. 'I'm never not serious, you silly little onna,' he said.

**Lies. You're sarcastic all the time.**

'Don't go getting on my nerves now, Woman.'

Bulma has gotten better at hiding her blushes, but he still sees them, just because it's her. That's why, every so often, he calls her a woman. It amused him, seeing her ivory cheeks redden like a splash of soft paint.

She was silent then, and after what seemed like a long time, Vegeta slowly pulled in his breath, waiting patiently for her to ask a question he didn't know the answer to.

**Do you think I'm going to win?**

Well, that was a first.

'Yes,' he answered immediately. 'Of course. Why wouldn't you?'

She hesitated. **I dunno. My first kills were kind of easy, Vegeta. I mean, the first two were one-shots, and – **

'You'd still have won even if they hadn't been. I trained you, didn't I?'

**Yes. **There was a loud, almost obnoxious silence in the pause that followed. Then, **What about when I have to face someone like Cuzodae?**

Now he was silent for a few seconds, choosing his words carefully. 'You'll skin her alive like the turkey she is.'

Bulma laughed. **Oh, Vegeta. You don't say she's a turkey, you say she's chicken! And Cuzodae doesn't look anything like a turkey. You don't even know what a turkey looks like!**

'I know it's a bird, and you skin it. Close enough."

She giggled again. **You could be really funny if you weren't so sarcastic, **she observed through her laughter.

'Good thing I'm sarcastic, then,' he quirked.

**Jerk.**

'Banshee.'

They sighed, almost simultaneously, and sat on the "floor" as Bulma turned the naturally black "walls" white, as she always did. They landed with him leaning against a materialized tree with pink blossoms, his legs splayed out and her in his lap. Bulma smiled as the petals began to fall gracefully, like soft rain. Vegeta looked up, staring at the blossoms. She followed his gaze, watching the soft pink flowers dance in his dark eyes.

'What kind of tree is this?' he asked.

**It's a cherry tree.**

A full, intact flower head fell slowly in front of them. He lifted his hand, not really catching it as much as letting it float to him, and brought it closer. He held it gently, so to not crush it, bringing it up to her face.

'So, these are cherry blossoms," he said, almost like a question.

**Yes, **Bulma smiled. **Aren't they pretty?**

In answer, he tucked the blossom into her hair.

She sighed contentedly through her nose, snuggling closer to his bare chest. **If this was a real cherry tree, **Bulma said wistfully, **we could climb it way up to the top and eat all the freshest cherries.**

'Cherries?'

**They're tiny red berries, about thiiiis big, **she said, making a small circle with her thumb and forefinger, **and they taste sweet, but kind of tart at the same time. **

He paused. 'Like căpşune berries?' he asked thoughtfully.

**Um, I think those are more like strawberries. Strawberries are sweeter than cherries. Strawberries taste kind of pink, like happiness. Cherries taste red, like their insides. Does that make any sense?**

Vegeta thought for a minute, processing her words. 'Your brain associates the taste with pink and cheerfulness.'

**Yes. What do you think of?**

'When I taste căpşunes?'

She nodded.

His lips parted slightly as he searched his memories for a feeling in a taste he hadn't had in years. Once again, it struck her how very _male_ he was, and yet, how soft his lips must be, and how she wanted to kiss them…

'I don't remember,' he said quietly.

She squeezed his big hand in her little one, bringing his palm to her lips to kiss (instead of what she'd been thinking of moments ago), which she had started making into a habit. **That's alright, **she said. **I'm sure Earth and Vegeta-sei aren't the only planets in the universe with strawberries.**

Vegeta inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

'Yeah, I guess so.'

* * *

><p>Bulma and I have what you could call a strange routine. She'll panic about something, and I will fix it, then I'll get angry about how <em>freaking awesome<em> our lives are, and she'll just…say something.

I don't know how she does it, exactly. She always knows precisely what to say to me, always knows which buttons to push to calm me down.

I had always prided myself on how well I could hide my emotions. Only my mother ever truly knew what I was thinking behind the stoic mask I always wore. Bulma is shockingly similar. I don't bother hiding what little emotions I have around her anymore. What's the point, when she can see through me like glass? It took me almost two whole years to just stop trying to prevent it and give up.

I remember the taste of căpşune berries very vaguely. I remember the _fact_ that they were soft and sweet, but I don't remember what they _tasted_ like. The last one I'd had wasn't three years ago, like Bulma had assumed. It'd been ten. I hadn't eaten a single berry since Mom died. I only even remembered what they smelled like when I was reminded, such as the first time I smelled Bulma's hair.

When I came back from Kanassa at age five after Mom died, I sat in the căpşune patch, _her_ căpşune patch, for four days. I didn't eat them, or anything else. I didn't come inside once, not even to drink. The only reason I didn't die of dehydration was because it poured rain for the first three days. I just opened my mouth to the skies and drank. I told myself it was the angels crying, grieving in ways I could not. I let it wash away all the blood and grime from my body, but not my tears. I physically couldn't shed tears. My eyes were dry.

I had not seen my baby brother yet. I hadn't even seen my father to give the usual report on the purge. I had gone straight to the gardens. It had already been pouring rain by time I got there.

The servants begged me to come inside, or at least to eat. They begged me to come and see the baby, or Dad. I don't think I even really heard them. Looking back, I know they were there, tugging at my arms and shaking my shoulders (brave fools), but I didn't acknowledge them.

On the fourth day, it stopped raining. I hadn't slept once in the past 72 hours, but that day I woke up sprawled on my side, the suns shining warmly on my face from the clear red sky. I sat up and resumed my cross-legged position that I hadn't moved out of in days. That's when my father flew out of nowhere and slapped me in the face.

I cried out, more from surprise than pain, even though it stung like fire. My hand flew up to my burning cheek, my eyes wide as I stared at him. Father never hit me outside of training, never.

"Stop it," he hissed. "You stop it right now and get inside before you get sick. Get out of those wet clothes and take a damn bath. You reek, Vegeta."

Only Mother ever blatantly told me I reeked. Before now, Father had told her it was man smell.

I was ashamed to cry in front of my father. He'd always told me that tears were for the weak. I didn't sob, just bit my lip as silent, salty drops slid down my cheeks.

My father surprised me twice that day.

His harsh glare softened, and his dark eyes, which mine were a perfect replica of, were filled with sorrow.

"Come here, my son," he said.

Even if I ever forget what he looked like, I will always remember his voice; it was deep and husky, almost like mine is now, I suppose, though still deeper. "Like a big ol' teddy bear," Mom would say. He sounded like a warrior to me. Like a King ought to.

My father had never been a hugger. Even so, or rather, as a result, I will also never forget crawling into his lap on a garden bench and fitting there just right, like a son should. I was five, but he was so big I may as well have been an infant.

He didn't say anything for the longest time. Then, he took his glove in his teeth and pulled it off, wiping at my tear stained face.

I always took my gloves off with my teeth after that.

Dad carried me to my room, and I remember my arms were wrapped around his neck like the child I was. Dad smelled like kitchen spices and aftershave, which was funny because he didn't shave and he _never_ cooked, though I steadfastly believed that that was from a lack of talent more so than a lack of want. He put…well, dumped…me in my bed and pulled to covers up to my chin, brushing my bangs out of my eyes afterwards. He studied me for the longest time, like he was trying to find her face in mine.

"Ears," he finally said, very softly. "Just like hers."

Mom loved my ears. They were hers, after all.

"It shouldn't have happened her," I said.

"No, son," he agreed, "It shouldn't have. But we can't very well dwell on what should have or shouldn't have happened. We're going to get up like men and keep going. You hear me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good." He stared at me a while longer, then ruffled my hair. I think I smiled, maybe.

Dad put his forehead against mine, and we both closed our eyes, our tails thumping rhythmically against the comforter. The blood bond between my father and I had always been strong, but never so much as that particular moment. We said nothing, aloud or mentally, just breathed, grieving together.

He rose suddenly, very quickly, as if someone had caught him doing something he shouldn't. "Enough," he said.

I was silent, staring at him as he stared at me, our matching ebony eye scrutinizing each other.

"Like charcoal," Mother would say. "Like burning charcoal."

"You don't burn charcoal, Little One," Father would chuckle. "That's coal."

"I know," she would say earnestly. "But charcoal is nicer looking, right Geta?" Then she would ruffle my hair, which I would pretend to hate, and we would never know which one of us she was talking to.

A lump rose in my throat at the memory. I blinked hard, forcing back fresh tears. I would not shame myself by crying like a baby again.

"Your mother said she loved you," Father said suddenly. I just nodded, and rolled onto my side, somewhat holding my breath.

"She said she left you some Itsúdikío in the fridge," he offered quietly.

The lump in my throat got substantially bigger. When had she found time to make Itsúdikío while all _this_ had been going on? It must have been a mere day before I'd left.

"She said to take care of the căpşune patch, so long as you don't get your face covered in berry juice."

Ha. I didn't know how to garden. I knew how to eat.

I could practically hear my father hesitating, and then I felt a large hand on top of my head.

"Rest, my son," he said. "Maybe we'll pick căpşune berries tomorrow, eh?"

We didn't, or course. Dad had meetings, I had training, and neither of us would ever eat the berries again, even though we had servants take care of her garden.

"You should come see your brother soon," he added.

I had a brother.

"His name is Tarble."

I had a baby brother named Tarble.

My father's tail flicked my nose roughly as he abruptly turned and headed for the door. It was a secret sign of affection in the Royal Family. The harder taps were for those you loved as blood relation, or someone you had welcomed into your clan, and the softest of taps were reserved for lovers. It stuck me then, much like the earlier slap in the face, that my father would never tap someone softly again. Saiyans mate for life.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I did, and I slept through the entire day, and the entire night as well, despite the fact that Father had put me to bed at nearly seven in the morning. I awoke to the cries of a small infant, and the smell of Itsúdikío sitting in a plate on my dresser. My tongue suddenly felt thick as I ate, making it almost unbearably hard to swallow. But instead of grief, I felt strangely happy. Maybe Mother was gone, but she'd left me a better present that the last piece of Itsúdikío I ever had.

I had a baby brother, and his name was Tarble.

* * *

><p>He's so quiet.<p>

**What are you thinking about? **I asked.

Silence. Then, 'My father.'

Now I was quiet. **Oh.**

Vegeta exhaled softly again through his nose, letting his head fall back against the tree. 'My brother might still be alive,' he said suddenly.

I sat up and looked at him. **Really?**

'Dad sent him off to some random planet outside the Planet Trade Organization's boundaries when I was nine. Tarble was four.'

I paused. **You don't know what planet it was?**

'Father was afraid Frieza would torture the information out of me if he found out.'

I didn't say that that was unnecessary. If Frieza found out Vegeta had a brother, he would beat him half to dead just for not telling him the kid existed. Then he'd kill him for simply not knowing. Still, I guess I could see where his dad was coming from. At least one son might live.

**Do you think he survived? I mean, he was only four, and all by himself? **I didn't want to crush his hopes, but I didn't want him to get his hopes _up_, either.

'Of course,' Vegeta answered, as if it were the simplest matter in the world. 'Infants were often sent to purge planets at much younger ages. My first solitude mission was at a few months old.'

I cringed inwardly. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that he wasn't human, that Saiyans had different morals, that he was different from me.

Apparently, it wasn't as inward as I thought. Vegeta, feeling me tense, added, 'Tarble didn't like to fight. We sent him to a non-hostile planet, that much I know. Frieza would never think to look for a Saiyan on a gentle, living planet.'

Well, of course. Why would a creature as violent and unpredictable as a Saiyan child keep gentle inhabitants alive? Frieza would find the possibility absurd, and think that if there were any other Saiyans, it'd be on a now uninhabited planet with no survivors.

**Clever,** I said.

'Yeah.'

There was hesitation in his voice. **But?** I prompted.

'But,' he said, 'there's still that chance that Frieza found the planet unknowingly, and he's dead anyway.'

**Oh.** It was true; unless King Vegeta had planned really far ahead, Frieza might've already obliterated the planet.

**Well, **I said, **Does it feel like he's dead?**

He quirked a thick, black eyebrow at me. 'Feel like?'

I shrugged. **Well, I know that if **_**you**_** died, I'd feel it.**

Vegeta blinked. 'Because of our bond?'

I shook my head. **I don't think so. More like a gut feeling. I think I would just know it in my heart.**

He frowned, his muscles tensing. Then he unceremoniously dumped me off his lap as he stood up abruptly.

**Ow! **I protested. **Vegeta! What was that for?**

He kept his back turned to me, his arms folded across his chest. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was scowling, just the same. I swear, sometimes he's so damn temperamental.

**Vegeta?**

'You shouldn't care so damn much,' he said gruffly.

**And why the hell not? **I demanded.

'Caring only gets you killed here,' he said, his voice almost in a growl. 'You know that. You shouldn't put yourself in a position to be wallowing in grief if something happens to me.'

I scoffed at his back from my position on the floor. **Don't be stupid. I wouldn't wallow in grief; I'd go kick the ass of whoever did it!**

'There you go again!' he yelled, whirling to face me. 'Thinking you can protect me! You can't! The only person strong enough to take me is Frieza! What are you guns against him?'

**Something! **I yelled back. **Something is better than nothing! And I'm protecting you now, you ungrateful ass!**

'Don't you _dare_ tell me I'm ungrateful!' he shouted. 'Don't you fucking dare! And when all that 'something' accounts for absolutely nothing but your death, what then?'

**You accuse me of caring too much, when you're the one who's worried about me! **I screamed.

'Don't patronize me, Woman! My power level can protect me!'

**Against anyone else, definitely! Not Frieza!**

'That's more than you guns can!'

**My guns can kill you!**

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He was thoroughly shocked, as was I.

We argued all the time; that much was obvious. But it was always about stupid things, small things, like how he trained himself too hard, or that I was unbearably clumsy, or even how we'd seen each other stark naked. But never anything major, and never about Frieza. That, we'd always agreed on. Vegeta was going to beat him, and I was going to sit back, watch, and laugh. And if I was lucky, I'd get to kick him and shoot his precious tail a couple times before Vegeta finished him off. But neither of us had admitted the truth out loud.

Vegeta wasn't strong enough, and even if Cineé unlocked his power many times hereafter, it would take at least five to seven years for him to be Frieza's equal, and even more for him to surpass the lizard demon.

And me? I was a perfect nothing, barely even as significant as the dirt underneath even the weakest soldiers without a weapon that packed more power than a tank back home.

'Would you kill me?' he asked suddenly, 'If you viewed me as a threat?'

I gaped for a second, then swallowed. It was only fair, after all, since I'd asked him the same question nearly a year or two ago. Becau, with that collar around his neck, I was the strongest here, or at least, I had the greatest advantage. It was only right that he should ask.

I took a deep breath to compose myself, closing my eyes as I did so. Then, they flashed open, focused in a determination that I only had during combat - ice blue, strong, and deadly.

**Never.**

He watched me carefully, searching for some kind of lie in my words, any sliver of untruth in my features to give me away and prove him wrong. Then he gave a snarky, almost betrayed laugh. 'And that,' he said, 'is what will lead to your downfall. If I wanted to hurt you –'

– **but you **_**don't**_** –**

' – you would die because you wouldn't shoot me,' he finished.

**Maybe I'd rather die than live with your life over my head. Death, **I declared firmly, **would be a thousand times better than seeing ****your**** blood on ****my**** hands. **

'You'll have killed ten people in less than two days,' Vegeta replied coldly. 'Pray tell, what's the difference?'

I didn't realize I was walking until I was upon him, and my hand shot out without warning. I slapped him, literally a hundred times harder than I could have in the real world. That's how great my rage was.

His head whipped to the side, and he stumbled and fell. For a split second, underneath my anger, I relished in the sight – it would probably be the one and only time I would ever get the drop on my Saiyan Prince.

Yes, he was _my_ Prince, and fairness be damned, how dare he suggest something so horrendous.

The cherry tree behind my burst into sudden flames; cherries, blooms and all melting away into burned, black crisp before disintegrating completely. I saw it out of the corner of my eye; it was morbidly beautiful, a stunning sight that would attract viewers like one would watch a train wreck with morbid fascination. It occurred to me then, that the beauty had been destroyed by my anger, just as the beautiful moment that occurred a mere two or three minutes ago had gone up in flames with the most heated argument I'd ever had in my life.

Vegeta's hand rose slowly to his cheek, a memory flitting across his features like a TV screen. That slap hadn't hurt him, I knew, as my hand was not stinging like it should be, but nonetheless, his fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary before he lowered it.

'You hit me,' he said, surprised.

**You ever compare yourself to that **_**scum**_** out in the arena again,** I seethed.

I did not have to finish the threat. He knew I'd think of something clever as I went.

**What you are to me has nothing to do with how life threatening you or anybody else is, **I said. **I can't believe you would think I was that shallow. I thought you knew me better than that. **

His lips moved slightly, and I could tell he'd been opening his mouth to say that was a lie, that he _did_ know me better than that – the denial of my accusation was writing across his face…or perhaps, I was looking at him through a magnifying glass. Almost at the same time, I watched as his black eyes darted to the burning tree as the back-splash faded from its chipper white to a vibrant, almost _bright_ black, then back to me.

He did not say that my allegation was a lie, as I could tell he wanted to.

Instead,

'And I thought I had told you to stay out of danger, but this whole Games fiasco only proved you were too foolish to do so.'

As his body disappeared, more cherry trees sprouted up from nowhere, each one bursting into flames less than a second later, and I let out a scream of rage.

* * *

><p>She screamed in blind fury, like the Little Banshee she is, the emotion in her voice making me flinch even as it faded. With those burning trees around her, she looked as if she had just been cast into the pits of hell.<p>

And that's what I was afraid of.

What she said was a damned, good for nothing lie, and we both knew it. I was so proud of her, so grateful that she was risking her entire life for barely six months of my own, but I was also afraid. Did she not see that I had nothing left to loose but her? My whole life, I had been afraid of dying, maybe because I knew what would come for me when I did, but no longer was that my greatest fear. Now, I was afraid of losing.

Yes, the Great Prince of Saiyans was afraid. Me.

I had lost everything. My home, my planet, my mother, my brother, and my father…she was all I had left. It was like a homeless child being given the most beautiful toy they could ever ask for, only to have it ripped away. Like a once rich beggar who'd hadn't had a pretty thing to own in years; didn't she see that she was my pretty thing?

"Vegeta is okay, yes?" Cineé asked worriedly.

I sighed, lifting my eyes to the arena – oh, _that_'s gonna leave a mark – rather than looking at her. "No."

"Vegeta wants to speak about problem, maybe?"

"No, Cineé."

She frowned. "Okay, Cineé will leave alone. But Vegeta will talk when Vegeta is ready, yes?"

"Sure, Cinee," I said, just to make her shut up. She looked satisfied and turned back to the ring, confident that she could help fix whatever problem I was having once I was ready to speak to her about it.

I would never be ready.

See, Saiyans don't "talk".

* * *

><p>Bulma pulverized a punching bag meant for contenders in the Soldiers Division, but for whatever reason, it only fueled her anger, rather than quenching it.<p>

The damn thing should have been nothing but shreds in two minutes, not _five_, and that pissed her off.

Luckily, as fate would have it, her second match of the day came only 30 minutes later.

"LAAAAAAAADIES AND GEEEENTLEMEEEENNNN! IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 5 FEET, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 13, OUR ONE AND ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, MISS BULMAAAAAAAAAA BRIEEEEEEEEEFS!"

The crowd roared as she made her way to the center ring. Her blue eyes flashed towards a certain Saiyan Prince, narrowed with irritation. He met her scalding glare with a scowl of his own, and she arrogantly flipped her blue, now ponytailed hair over her shoulder.

"AND IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 6 FOOT 6, 300 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 3024, TOBOOOO OF ULRUUUSSSS!"

Tobo of Ulrus. What the hell kind of…

Oh.

Tobo was possibly the ugliest creature Bulma had ever seen in her life. First of all, he was _huge_, as his statistics implied. He was covered in coarse, bristled grey fur from head to toe and wore brown rags that could have made him pass for an extremely hairy Neanderthal, with inch long nails on both his hands and feet. His nose…or rather, his snout, was short and stubby, and he (strangely) had a black nose,. His eyes were a solid red, no irises or pupils, just _red_, and he had _teeth_.

He looked like some kind of freak mole from Earth, except that moles have no teeth, or black noses, or red eyes. But the teeth freaked her out the most. They were long and razor sharp, almost like a sharks, but even more skewed and uneven.

Bulma then decided that she hated moles.

She blinked, and suddenly Tobo was charging at her. He was amazingly fast, especially for the animal he resembled, and she barely had time to leap into the air before he skidded to a stop and charged again. Bulma dodged, gripping her Glock tightly in her hand, her eyes never leaving the hideous creature for a second.

What the hell was he doing? Why didn't he shoot at her?

_There_.

When she saw what he was truly doing, she almost laughed aloud. He didn't have inch long nails, as she had thought; no, his nails were still grotesquely long, but they weren't what she'd been looking at. The things on his hands were artificial claws.

This was his weapon. It was like the superhero Wolverine, but with razors on his fingertips instead of his knuckles.

Damn.

_Focus, _she chided herself. _All he's got is close range weapons; you've got long range. You've got the advantage. _

She raised her gun and fired deftly. She was certain it would hit her target; she so rarely missed.

But miss, she did.

Bulma's mouth hung open slightly as the Ki bullet grazed the creature's shoulders. Tobo roared in fury, clawing at his back, then charged her like a mad bull again. Bulma pushed off the ground with her toes, flying backwards as he rushed to meet her. Bulma raised her gun as they danced across the ring, firing again.

Imagine her shock when Tobo's metal claws literally cuffed the bullet out of the way.

**What kind of freak are you? **Bulma shrieked angrily.

Tobo grunted. "I am Ulru, Mind Reader!" he bellowed.

"No shit!" she yelled, her feet touching the ground for a split second before she pushed off again, abruptly changing directions as she fired once more. Again, it only grazed the monster's skin, which he acknowledged with another yowl of annoyance.

_I can't keep doing this! _she thought to herself. _I'm not going to get anywhere if all I can do is scratch him! I can't keep running like this! How the hell is he avoiding my shots?_

Tobo swiped at her, _left_, _right, left, right, left, _and she dodged every time, but each time he came slightly closer, and each time she felt the small draft of wind from his movements get slightly bigger.

_There has to be some way to beat him, or he would be a Warrior, or a Soldier. He's in the weaponries, therefore he is weak. He has a weakness, probably many. Find it. _

Her keen blue eyes scanned over the creature carefully, even at the speed at which they moved, searching for anything that might give him away.

_The neck, _a small part of her whispered. _Between the shoulder blades. Like on the Beauty and the Beast movie from Disney. Beast got stabbed in between the shoulder blades._

She almost chuckled. How absurd, getting ideas from children's movies. But it would have to do.

Now there was just one problem.

How the hell was she supposed to get to the damn thing's neck?

Suddenly, as she was deep in thought, Tobo appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and cuffed her upside the head. Bulma cried out, her head whipping violently to the side as she went flying. Her shield flashed a hazy green, protecting her neck; good thing too, or she would have died in the same manner as Saet.

"PAY ATTENTION, YOU IDIOT!" she heard someone yell.

**Shut the hell up, Vegeta! I know what I'm doing! **she fired back angrily. She squeezed the trigger of her gun, pushing the Glock into rapid fire. Each bullet hit Tobo _somewhere_, the searing hot metal scrapping against his shoulders, arms, legs, back, and even his face, but the blasted beast still wouldn't go down!

His fur. That was the only explanation. Anyone else who took those hits would have been dead. Bulma narrowed her eyes, searching the coarse mass of hair, and sure enough, when the beast turned, several Ki bullets gleamed in the light. His fur was latching onto them like a spider's web would a fly; only the very cleanest shots even got a chance to graze his skin.

"Tobo will kill you, Mind Reader!"

**As **_**if**_**, you oversized rat!**

He snarled in rage, charging at her once more. "I will no longer go easy on you, cursed Mind Reader! This is no longer amusing!" And with that, the metal claws lengthened, almost doubling in size.

_Shit_, Bulma thought.

And this time, when Tobo lunged at her, he met his mark.

Bulma gasped aloud as his claws connected with her sternum, and her shield shattered. What had originally been nothing but green light became solid, breaking like glass and clattering to the ground. The audience gave an audible gasp. Vegeta's eyes widened with a mix of surprise, anger, and dread. His fists clenched tightly behind him, his muscles straining against his bonds. Spikes prodded at his skin almost immediately, but he ignored them, as usual.

_One day you're going to get yourself skewered, _he scolded himself.

Bulma's body slammed all the way into the wall on the other side of the arena. Her eyes widened as the air was forced from her lungs, her small frame rebounding off the indestructible, glass like barrier. Her gun clattered to the floor and slid away from her as she fell to her knees, gasping. Her battles with Usoe and Saet instantly replayed in her mind, and suddenly she realized how panicked they must have been, when all the while she'd been too furious to notice the state of her victims.

_Should have brought the damn sniper! _She screamed to herself.

Tobo was getting closer. If the arena had been any smaller, she would have most likely been dead by now. Bulma staggered to her feet, reaching into her belt. She still couldn't breathe, and it amazed her that she could even move right now.

The mole-like beast, which was starting to remind her of a minotaur without horns, stretched his claws out. She fumbled with her Saiyan belt, struggling to get a hold of her dagger.

When he came, she was not quite ready. Her dagger had caught in her belt, and she currently did not have enough air to compose herself and retrieve it. He did not slash her to bits, as she expected, but instead decided to play with her some more. Tobo picked her up by the hair, earning himself a silent scream, and pulled her into a giant bear hug. Bulma's mouth fell open as she desperately tried to shriek, her ribs feeling as if they would give at any moment. She squirmed, kicking at him below the waist, but he avoided the painful blow by lifting her in the air and slamming his huge knee into her small abdomen. Spittle flew out of her mouth, accompanied by thick splatters of blood.

Something in her snapped when she tasted something bitter and metallic on her tongue. She gave a mental scream, and everyone present winced and grabbed at their heads. Though as thick as his ugly skull must have been, Tobo also felt the pain, and dropped her to scratch at where his internal ears must have been, as if that would get the piercing sound out of his mind.

Bulma, now covered in horrible scratches, breathing heavily, and wincing at what she knew must be a fractured rib or two, took off running back towards the center of the ring. The green glass from her shield littered the ground, some pieces small, some large, all sharp and jagged. She glanced back, seeing Tobo running at her, and almost began to panic.

"_No…"_ a voice whispered softly.

_Vegeta, you ass,_ she thought as her mind cleared. It had not been a message to her, though it did a much need job, even so. It had been a plea to God, she knew, that she would somehow make it. Her jaw clenched with newfound determination, and she (somewhat gracelessly) dived for the glass. Surrounding pieces cut viciously into her skin; she winced, and bit her lip to keep from crying out (though God knows she couldn't) as the giant piece she grabbed dug into her palms, a gush of crimson blood dripping from her hand. She rolled over swiftly, more glass making painful incisions in her arms and legs. Never before had she been so grateful for a breastplate.

The second she was on her back, Tobo was upon her, his claws raised. Bulma jumped back, glass yet again digging into her flesh, and made it just in time to avoid his claws.

But nearly a second later, he knocked her aside, and she crumpled to the ground.

"STOP IT!" Vegeta yelled from the bench, the Ki restraints around his wrist straining. The other "Prizes" lurched forward with him, the connected chain bringing them all forward, at which most hissed in protest.

Tobo lumbered over to Bulma's fallen form, snickering an ugly laugh as he picked her up by her hair. Her ponytail holder had snapped at the last blow, and the blue tresses fell gracefully past her shoulders and almost to her waist. Her eyes were closed, as if she were unconscious, though her soft features were distorted with pain. Blood slid from her right hand, which the green glass still resided in, making a small pool underneath her.

Tobo pulled her roughly into his burly arms, almost in a bridal style, preparing to twist her upper and lower half completely in two. A masculine scream of protest ripped from the Prizes bench, though the giant brute took no notice of this.

The Ulru gave a deep, gruff chuckle. "And now, the Chikyuu Demon will die," he crowed.

Just as his muscles tensed to break her in half, Bulma violently twisted in his arms, her own, much smaller arms yanking themselves free. In a flash, Bulma brought the glass up to his neck and sunk it deep into his flesh with a force she didn't know she possessed.

Tobo roared in pure agony as his coarse fur that had latched onto and saved him from bullets wrapped itself around the shard, pulling it in deeper. He dropped Bulma, snarling in pain, before he staggered and fell clumsily to the ground and lay still. Likewise, the arena once again fell silent with shock.

Bulma panted slightly, before she forced herself to straighten her posture. **Who you calling a demon, fat ass? **She yelled at the carcass.

The crowd exploded in a combination of cheers, boos, whoops and complaints. People had begun betting money on her, and the majority of gamblers had gotten their money.

Bulma was still breathing heavily, her entire body shaking. She ached like she never had before in her life, her muscles tired from straining and her skin feeling raw from the glass. She sighed, relieved, gasping in pain as she did so, retrieved her gun (which had been emptied of bullets, much to her dismay), and headed towards edge of the arena. Her eyes slid halfway shut as she walked, as she tried desperately to calm herself. She'd been so close to dying…

But it was okay. She was alive now, and on her way out of this damn hole. She stretched out her fingers, an almost hysterical grin playing at the edge of her mouth as she prepared herself to feel the relief of her hand passing through the barrier…

Until her fingers came into contact with solid glass.

_What the hell?_

Oh, _shit_!

Bulma's bloodied fingers clamped on her dagger and wrenched it free from its hold on her belt as she whirled, just in time to avoid a slash of claws that would have killed her instantly. But she didn't make it entirely.

Bulma screamed as the metal talons ripped into her arm, and amazingly enough, her armor did nothing to protect her. Blood spurted from the wound, the soft _sploosh_ being accompanied by an anguished cry from the Saiyan Prince.

"Tobo will not die by the hands of a Blue Haired Chikyuu Demon!" the giant mole roared. "This will teach you to play with fire, Little Brat!"

**Shut up, you stupid, ugly BASTARD! **Bulma screamed. Suddenly, all the pent up anger that she'd tried so hard to channel into focused precision and force exploded from her, and blue flames danced around her skin as if she were a bloodied angel on fire.

"NO KI!" the announcer shouted over the megaphone.

**SHUT THE HELL UP!** she screeched. **I HAVEN'T TOUCHED THE DAMN FREAK WITH KI! SHUT UP!**

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard everyone present verbally gawking at her, and maybe, if she thought really hard, she'd have heard the male Colds snickering.

And suddenly, she was flying at Tobo, who was so shocked at her outright disrespect for her superiors, he could do little more than blink as she came at him, her dagger extended. It sunk into the flesh of his neck even better than the glass did; Bulma couldn't help the flickering memory of sliding her mother's silverware into butter.

A gurgling sound came from the beast, who fell once again. She has missed his main artery, she realized, when she had used the glass. Well, her beautiful dagger was much more precise. She would not miss again.

Though the thick grey fur of the Ulru wrapped around the blade, she yanked it free and stabbed it in again. And again. Her hands burned, coated with both his blood and hers, though she barely noticed the harsh splattering of crimson on her cheeks as she fell to her knees beside the monstrous creature and suck the blade into his throat.

_STUPID! _She screamed at herself. _STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! WHY DIDN'T YOU SENSE HIS DAMN KI? HE WAS ALIVE, DAMMIT! STUPID, STUPID STUPID!_

Tobo's body jerked violently with each stab. Cripes, the fucker was still alive! What did it take to _kill_ him?

Mental screams of rage and momentary insanity echoed in the minds of watchers. Prizes, who were too tightly bound to make an effort to cover their ears, wrenched and gasped, trying to get the shrill sound out.

Vegeta winced, but he knew it was not a physical sound. He was hearing nothing; his brain was simply telling him that there was noise. It was a horrible noise, and it pulled him in like a black hole. His skin felt like it was burning from the inside out as her emotions hit him full force; she was tilting on the borderline of insanity. The trauma of the last few months, hell, probably the last three years, had weighed down on her small shoulders, only for her to be further burdened by the stench of blood on her hands. His eyes widened, his pupils shrinking. _Fix it, fix it, fix it, I will fix it, I will fix it…_

He didn't know if he could fix it.

Bulma's shrieks seemed to grow louder with every stab. _Where's his Ki? Can he hide it? Find the Ki! STAB him until you find it! Find it and STAB him till he dies!_

He _is _dead.

She had killed him, she realized. His body jerking was her insanity strengthened hands wrenching the dagger from the thick grey fur, not him struggling to escape. He had been dead three stabs ago.

She had stabbed his neck six times.

_GUSH!_

Seven.

With the last thrust of her knife, she let out a strangled cry. Briefly, she marveled at how monstrous she had become in such a little amount of time; she had imagined every one of Frieza's soldiers dead many times in the past three years, but never once had she thought it would be at her hands.

Vegeta will free us. Vegeta will kill them. Vegeta will beat the Tyrant. Vegeta will do it.

Her shoulders shook, her soft blue hair drenched in blood, literally dripping in the red gore as if she'd bathed in it. Some was her own, though most belonged to Tobo. She thought, _I will feel better, if I hit something,_ but then she thought, _I don't want to hit anything. I want to go home. _

Shakily, to the stunned silence of the crowd, she picked up her dagger, lightly wiping it clean…or at least, making an effort to…on her bloodied pant leg and tucking it into her belt. She retrieved her gun, and hooked that in her belt too.

It was then that she really _felt_ the sting of her wound, and her blue eyes darted to it.

She nearly vomited at what she saw.

And enormous gash, courtesy of three metal shears, ran down her arm. It was deep, so much so that Bulma could see bone, and blood was still flowing from it in thick streams. Suddenly, she felt light headed.

She stumbled down the stairs to the arena, slightly irritated as cheering began to build again at her display. Hot tears streamed down her face, her body aching to the point of…

She collapsed.

* * *

><p>He moved.<p>

As if in slow motion, his cuffs broke into pieces, and though his collar was still on, his power surged momentarily before it died. Then, with a heavy clang, the collar too fell at his feet. The other Prizes lurched forward slightly; perhaps he had pulled harder than he thought, but that was beside the point.

He did not particularly feel like clobbering someone just yet. He wanted to go to her, first and foremost.

The guard that had been appointed to Frieza's prizes jumped in front of him. Vegeta batted him away as if he were a fly, his obsidian eyes never once leaving the crumbled form that was his angel.

_Get her, get her._

It was like a mental whisper, soft and gentle, yet firm and prodded. Encouraging.

_Get her, go get her. _

Both guards now jumped on him, having to use brute force since the collar was gone. Again, he pushed them away easily.

"I need backup over here!" one yelled.

He did not run to her, though he didn't know why. Perhaps he was too stunned to move quickly. Nonetheless, each step brought him closer to her, closer, closer…

Three extra guards slammed into him, stopping him momentarily. Subconsciously figuring it would be too many to shake off at the moment, he simply took a more determined step forward.

_Get her, go get her…_

It suddenly became easy to walk, even with five men pulling on him, trying to force him into submission.

Ha. Like that would happen.

Two more guards joined the fray, if one could call it that, but his pace did not slow. He jumped down from the higher floor that supported the benches, a few guards falling off as he landed gracefully. He expected his eyes to be narrowed, his lips to be in a scowl, but his face was almost blank, his eyebrows un-furrowed, his lips just barely turned downwards in the seriousness of the matter.

"GET ME SOME FUCKING _BACKUP_!" A guard yelled again.

He felt Frieza's dark, purple eyes on him; he always knew when he was being watched. The Tyrant's pink sister was yelling at the medics, hollering for them to get her to a damn tank, but, being medics, they were so _slow_. It'd be better, he decided, if _he_ took her a tank. He could get there faster, and he knew exactly what settings should be just right for her…true, he was no doctor, but he knew how to work the machines.

More guards piled on him, and suddenly he found it very difficult to move. It was strange; his Ki was unlocked, so why did he feel so weak? Exhaustion? Panic?

Sedation.

Those spikes in his collar weren't for skewering – at least, not entirely. They could skewer a person if necessary, but only as a last resort. First and foremost, it would inject said person with sedatives. After all, it was against the rules to kill a Prize.

_Get her, get to her, fix her…_

"Get a collar!"

"More sedatives!"

"BASH HIM UPSIDE THE _HEAD_!"

He was so _close_, he could smell her; the muffled scent of căpşune berries wafted to his nose, though there was no breeze coming from her direction. Her beautiful blue hair was covered in blood, making it appear a deep purple in some places, but he could still see how blue it was, and, not for the first time, he marveled at the strange unique color.

He reached out his hand, stretching his fingers toward the blue. He was barely an inch from her, if these stupid soldiers would just stop trying to force him back, the fools! He grunted softly, reaching for her…

A sharp blow suddenly struck him at the base of his skull, and everything blue he saw faded to black.

He awoke hours later to find himself in pure darkness; it was a very small room, with no lights or windows, used only to _subtly_ punish Prizes who wouldn't cooperate. He could only walk a foot or so with his hands out in front of him in any direction, and he would be there for hours more. He might even miss halftime.

Maybe Bulma would miss halftime, too.

* * *

><p>I almost had her.<p>

* * *

><p>My little Monkey never ceases to amaze me, the little bastard. This is the second time he's broken his Ki restraints.<p>

And my sister never ceases to annoy the hell out of me. Geez, yelling at the medics like an Ice-ling throwing a tantrum, and about MY whore! Hmph.

Well, fine. I have other things to do.

"Zarbon," I called, sitting back down on my hover-chair as I swirled my wine. Don't ask why _Vegeta_ was so interesting that I felt the need to get up. "Zarbon, dear, come here please."

He was at my side at an instant, bowling gracefully on one knee. "Yes, M'lord?"

"Send a purging party to planet Earth again, will you? It's time I sell it again," I said, twirling his green braid in my free hand.

He swallowed. "Um, sir? The Ringikou have already been eradicated, my Lord."

I blinked. "They are dead?"

"No sir. They simply left. They said Earthlings were terrorizing their village."

I laughed. "Oh, that's simply _rich_, Zarbon darling, let me tell you. Earthlings are some of the weakest creatures I've ever seen, with an exception to _that_ one – "

"I can't detect any life on Earth, Sir," Zarbon said thoughtfully. "And I could have sworn all life was removed before we sold it the first time."

"It's a lush planet, is it not? There could be many places to hide, but I still doubt that any Earthlings are alive. Must be some fools from the Argo Resistance, taking refuge there, though I can't imagine how they could hide their Ki signatures..."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Well, find me a new bidder, then. People love beautiful planets such as Earth."

I'd sold the planet five times by now, but this is the second time that they say "Earthlings" have been interfering. Impossible, _I_ say. Chikyuuans are all dead. My blue haired pet is the only one left.

"Of course, Sir. Can I do anything else for you, M'lord?"

My Zarbon has such a sweet, soothing voice. He is a charmer, that one. I hear he _can_ be a bitch when he wants to, though I've yet to see such things.

"Perhaps," I said smugly. Blue blood rushes to his cheeks, at which I smirked. "Two things, actually. Transfer that new prisoner from the Moon Base here, will you darling? I want him put in the prison on Planet 79 for now…I will need him sometime six months from now, and that trip is much shorter, don't you think?"

"Of course, Sire. And the second thing, if I might ask?"

I snickered. "Why, Zarbon, you aren't daft."

Zarbon, like my little monkey, is a rare find. I do enjoy those. Bronze skin and flame hair on one, the other with gold eyes and blue blood. Lovely creatures, they are.

Too bad Vegeta Sr. had been mated. He'd have killed himself before he let me touch him, and that would have been such a waste, especially since I'd wanted to kill him myself.

"Yes, Sir," Zarbon said softly.

"Good boy," I said, nudging his cheek. "Such a pretty thing, aren't you, Zar?"

Oh, he does love my nicknames.

"Well, go on," I said. "Make haste, darling. By time you're done, Day 3 should be up, and I'll have time to take a little...break."

"Of course, Sire."

* * *

><p>It's dark.<p>

Not as dark as my previous cell, but dark, nonetheless. I weakly pulled the blindfold from my face; it is red. They must have had a good laugh from that one.

I sense something here…I do not know what it is, but I cannot see or hear it, and that worries me slightly. I only sense a presence, but I don't know if it is hostile or friendly, weak or strong.

I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. Zarbon dragged me in here a few minutes ago…he did not speak, but I knew it was him. I could smell him, and besides, he is the only one I've met who is my height.

He smells of Lizard.

I chewed on a lock of my hair, an annoying habit that I find myself doing when I am nervous. My carrying pod had said that we were on Planet 79, Frieza's homebase.

Oh, how I hate him.

This place is cold. I regretted choosing the clothing I had the day I was captured…my black shorts will do nothing to shield me here, and this blasted collar prevents me from warming myself with Ki.

My eyes finally adjust, and I sighed…until I heard a low growl from the shadows.

I slammed myself into the wall, just in time to avoid losing a limb. A bio experiment lashed out at me, snarling like a rabid mutt.

It is a rabid mutt, I suppose.

It's hideous, even for someone like me, who's seen a countless amount of mind-scarring things. It has blonde hair that falls to his shoulders, teal eyes, and sharp teeth. He is foaming at the mouth – another experiment gone wrong. Suddenly, I'm very glad that bars are separating me and this beast; were he let out, I'm fairly certain he would kill me in an instant, and despite my current circumstances, I'm in no hurry to die.

I looked closer, nearly vomiting when I see how his skin is molded over his frame in a completely twisted manner; skin is melded into his hair, gobbed over his forehead and shoulders, and missing entirely in large chunks of his torso.

Another experiment gone _really_ wrong.

I bit my lip to keep myself from retching, so hard that I tasted blood a fraction of a second later. I can't help wanting to fight this creature; it's in my blood, after all. Full Bloods will fight anything, and yet, I know it would lead to my untimely death. Bio-experiments, from what I know, have been rumored to be unnaturally strong.

So, deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, I squeezed myself into the farthest corner of the cell, which was a bit difficult, considering my size, and slept there rather than on my cot.

They told me I would stay here for half a year. As the Bio-experiment lashed out through the bars, foam dripping from his mutated lips, I realized something.

This is going to be a long six months.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I think that might've been my best battle scene ever.**

**How long can Vegeta last in a claustrophobic size room? After losing the amount of blood that she did, will Bulma make it to the tanks in time? And who is the prisoner that Frieza has brought to Planet 79?**

**Review, like good little boys and girls, and I shall tell you.**

**~KimiruMai**


	14. Kill the Silence

**I have been inspired. Thank you Three Days Grace. Again.**

**For whatever reason, I have taken a sudden liking to classical music, or rather, music by Yimura. Don't worry, I will still forever love my "head banging", as my parents call it, but still…this guy is amazing. **

**Anyway, this one is kind of a filler chapter. Most likely it's going to go Filler, Battle, Filler, Battle, up until we are done with the Games. Of course, since Bulma faces 10 people, that means twenty chapters for you guys! **

**Also, since the desire to use my all-so-original cleverly homemade titles for chapters is stronger than the desire to use song lyrics for titles, I have decided to use "prompts". **

**Prompt: "Pain" by Three Days Grace.**

**Disclaimer: The word disclaim should be quite enough….**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Kill the Silence<strong>

"LET ME OUT!"

He had been screaming for hours, only to have no one answer. Something nagging in his head told him to stop, to calm down, but he didn't want to stop, nor was there any reason to calm down. For all he knew, Bulma was dead, he would be sold in a day…

And this room was getting smaller.

"LET ME OUT!"

It couldn't really be getting smaller, could it? Could a room that wasn't much larger than a _crevice_ get smaller than it already was?

"Don't be stupid," he said aloud, scolding himself. He held up his hands and walked forward.

_One, two…wall._

_Turn…_

_One, two…wall._

_Turn…_

_One, two…wall._

_Turn…_

_One, two…wall. _

Exactly the same as the last time he'd counted; two steps in every direction before either his feet or his hands hit the wall. If he stood in the very middle and stretched out his arms, his elbows would still be very much bent when his fingers contacted with the smooth surface.

This room was damn _tiny…_

He rammed himself into a wall, suddenly feeling very _squished._ The smooth metal didn't give, or even dent. It was as strong as the bars in his…their…cell, seemingly thin and fragile but strong enough to withstand a Saiyan.

Of course, he did have on a new collar…

There was an ugly thud as his muscular body connected with the wall once again. There were no guards outside; no, that would be like giving the prisoner a form of comfort, of presence, and that just wouldn't do. The punishment was designed to make the captive feel completely and utterly abandoned, even to the point of insanity.

And it was working.

If he couldn't hear anyone, he would simply assume the damn thing was soundproof. It was, of course; the room was made to keep sound out, but it didn't trap it inside. But even if the room itself was Ki proof (which it also was), he would still be able to sense people that were _outside_, or at least people close by.

But he sensed no one. Not even an insect.

"LET ME OUT, GODDAMMIT!"

Imbeciles! Who did they think they were, capturing the Prince of Saiyans? When he was ready to rebel against Frieza, those bastard Games guards would be the first to go.

He decided he hated silence. It was ugly and terrifying. He feared nothing, no, but years in Frieza's tyrant grasp had made him uneasy, paranoid. The silence made his ears strain for sounds of movement, and the lack of said sound made his hair stand on end.

Vegeta threw his head back and let out a blood-curling scream. Anyone who heard him even the slightest bit shivered violently, feeling as though they were in a room with the most wild of creatures, rabid and silently stalking their prey. Anyone with sense would know who is was, or if they didn't, they could guess by the voice.

The Saiyan Prince was awake, and he was _pissed._

"LET. ME. OUT!"

* * *

><p>When I woke up, I was immersed in a smooth, blue liquid, far too blue to be water.<p>

And I was naked.

So, naturally, I panicked. I opened my mouth to scream, until I remembered I couldn't talk. That's when I noticed that there was a mask over my face.

I looked around, blinking. I'm sitting in some kind of metal machine with a large window. It was more than tall enough for me to stand in, but when I sat, the window was high enough to show only my upper half.

Not that that's better…

I stood, then thought better of it and sat back down, instead crawling as close as I dare. I touched the glass tentatively, getting so close that the mask almost touched it as well.

Then I shrieked and fell back (ow).

"Whassa matta with you?" comes Shiver's muffled voice. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

I glared at her, at which she snickered. **Well, maybe if you hadn't scared the hell out of me – **

"Oh, hush. You're fine. You can come out now." She pressed a button, and the blue liquid drained out through some unseen holes or whatnot.

**Give me my clothes,** I said as I stood, wringing out my now loose hair.

"Your armor is washing," she said, tossing me a towel and a fresh outfit. "Seriously, they stank. And covered in all kinds of blood and sh –"

**I get it,** I interrupted, my face clouding as I slid into the outfit.

She's silent for the longest I've ever seen; frankly I didn't know she could be quiet for more than a half-second. Sure, I'm a chatterbox, but Shiver…

**What?** I asked, somewhat irritably.

She shuffled uncomfortably. "Well…"

**C'mon, Shiv. Spit it out.**

"Um, Vegeta kinda sorta broke his collar again, and the Ki chains –"

**He **_**WHAT**_**?**

"He broke his –"

**I heard what you said! How the hell did he do that? Even with his power level being two – **I froze. I hadn't told Shiver his power level yet. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, just that…well, for one, it was Vegeta's power, so he would have to agree, and he already didn't want her knowing anything, so I hadn't even bothered asking. Secondly…it was kind of like _our_ secret, something that only existed between us.

"What's his power level?" Shiver prompted.

I swallowed. **Um, like, two hundred thousand, maybe? I dunno, I just guessed.**

She nodded solemnly, completely buying it. "Well, actually it's somewhere around six hundred thousand, but I guess since you don't have a scouter, you wouldn't know. That's what mine said, anyway. I'm not gonna lie, B, that's a lot lower than Frieza is."

**Yeah, I know.**

"Well, that wasn't what I wanted to tell you anyhow. Vegeta more or less tried to escape, and you know that's against the rules, so he's been punished –"

**What does "punished" mean? **I hissed through my teeth.

"The Black Crevice."

**What the hell is that?** My voice rose. I turned to her sharply, fury burning my skin like fire. **What the hell have they done with him?**

She scratched the back of her neck. "It's a little room with a two by two perimeter, with no lights or windows...or at least, no windows you can open from the inside It's a few floors down, and there aren't any people there. It's supposed to give the criminal a sense of complete loneliness – "

**HAVE THEY LOST THEIR FREAKING MINDS? HE'LL GO INSANE!** I screamed.

"That's the point! Weren't you listening?"

**Oh my God, oh God, I have to get him out – **

"You can't." Shiver sighed. "If you try, they'll kill you for trying to throw the Games. You'd have fought for nothing, and he'd probably only be kept in there longer. Not to mention he'd be sold – "

**What am I going to do?** I wailed. **The last conversation I had with him was a really bad argument, and now – **

"Would you let me get a word out?" she snapped, exasperated. "Sheesh. And how do you think he feels? You passed out from blood loss, Bulma. You were almost killed. Look." She turned to the computer that had monitored my healing progress and hit a button. An image popped up on screen almost immediately, and I gasped in horror.

They had scanned me to evaluate how much healing time I would need; I was naked, save two scraps of cloth to cover my privates, lying on what would be called a mad scientist's examination table back home. My body was covered in ugly gashes and deep cuts, all bleeding profusely. I felt bile rise in my throat as I stared at myself, my eyes lingering on the bone deep gash from Tobo's claws.

**That bastard…**I breathed, tears springing to my eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," Shiver said, patting my back comfortingly. "You healed up nicely; take a look!"

I did, and sighed in relief when I saw that the only evidence of the gash was a pale, pinkish line that trailed up my arm. Eventually, it would fade even further into my naturally pale skin, and you'd only notice it was there if you knew it was supposed to be.

Then I noticed exactly what I was wearing, which I hadn't paid attention to until a second ago.

**What the hell did you give me?** I shrieked.

Shiver grinned sheepishly. "Sorry! It was all I could find!"

**This is a freaking GYPSY outfit! And not even a legit Gypsy! Like a damn Disney Character Gypsy!**

"What the hell is a Gypsy?"

**I look like a whore!**

"You do not," Shiver snickered. "You look like a doll, or something. And it was either that or nothing, your choice."

**Bitch.**

"Aww, thanks!" the Ice-jinn grinned. Turning somber, she frowned. "Bulma, you have to talk to Vegeta. If he can't start to control his anger, Frieza's going to get an idea about how powerful he is."

I sighed. **I know. **

"I know it's hard for Saiyans to control their tempers, but he has to try harder."

**I **_**know**_**.**

Shiver ran her hand over her sleek pink head. If she had hair, she'd be running her fingers through it. "If we get caught even a little too early – "

**Shiver! I know!** I yelled. **I know, okay? We're doing our best! In case you forgot, me and Vegeta live like hell! We don't get to sit around in a throne all day like you do! This is hard!**

Shiver blinked at me, her pinkish red eyes hardening with anger. "Excuse me," she ground out, "for trying to help you." With that, she quickly turned on her heels, fully prepared to leave the room, but stopped as my hand clamped on her arm.

**Look, I'm sorry, okay? **I sighed, rubbing my temples. **But you know this is harder for us than it is for you, even with your Dad and all. At least you can take a decent bath every day. **

Shiver sighed too. "What are we going to do? I can't get any stronger, B. Vegeta is our last chance."

**I know, Shiver. He's trying. **

"It's going to take a long time."

**Yes. **

"Especially if he can't train properly."

**He can do it. **

She sighed. "I just…I'm trying to be patient, but it's getting worse, you know? "

**Need I remind you who you're talking to? **I pinched the bridge of my nose. **Nobody said this was going to be easy. You wanted in on this. **

"Yeah, I know."

I sat on the edge of the rejuvenation tank, burying my face in my hands. **How long before I can see him?**

Shiver bit her lip. "I probably shouldn't…"

**Do **_**not**_** try to tell me you can't reveal how long his punishment is, **I hissed. **You're the princess, so you can do whatever the hell you want. **

"I wasn't going to say that," she protested. "I was going to say I probably shouldn't…take you down there."

I gaped. _Probably _shouldn't? I knew that phrase well from my parents (I admit it; I was spoiled), and it meant…

**So…you **_**are**_**?**

She folded her arms, huffing slightly and glaring at the wall. "I guess."

I ran to hug her, which she did not anticipate, so we stumbled and nearly fell over. **Thank you so much!** I cried. **I owe you for life!**

"You owe me for eternity," she joked. "My brother'll kill me if he finds out."

**Good thing he won't find out, then,** I said, suddenly cheerful.

"Somebody might still see. You and your mood swings…you're way too optimistic about this."

**No, I just got some maaad ninja skills. **

"Dork."

* * *

><p>Frieza's clawed feet tapped lightly on the metal floors as he walked down the hallway, still in his forth form. His tail swung agitatedly to and fro, his hands folded neatly behind his back. No guards accompanied him, more because of him not wanted them versus not needing them (though he didn't in the slightest), and other than the echoing <em>tap, tap, tap<em>s of his feet, the halls were silent.

Well, almost silent.

It was very quiet, at first. Almost unnoticeable. The walls of this part of the ship were soundproof, after all. But the longer he walked, the louder it became. A soft, albeit irritating noise in the background of his mind, subtly growing louder until it was substantially less annoying. Actually, the louder it got, the more pleasing it was to his ears.

"LET ME OUT!"

Ah, his pet. His beautiful, amusing, entertaining pet. Frieza adored him, in a twisted kind of way; not necessarily in the same way he adored Zarbon, but he adored him just the same. Vegeta was so fun to tease, to mock. It amused him, how the little monkey's thick brows would knit together as he fought viciously to hold his sharp tongue, how his dark eyes would blaze with a wild fury at every insult, blazing with unwavering fire.

Frieza loved that fire. It was a beautiful, natural thing, which he had no doubt that Vegeta was born with. A killer's eyes, full of bloodlust and hate. Much like his own, it struck fear into the hearts of whoever it was flung upon, enough to make knees shake and mouths run dry. He longed to claim that fire, to nurture it and turn it into something better, more controlled, something that would truly match that of a great tyrant.

Oh, what he would give to be able to mold his pet. Frieza's eyes were like ice, as an Ice-jinn's should, and they made a person feel fear that would only otherwise come in the pits of hell. If he could just mold Vegeta's expression, he would be perfect. Ice-jinn eyes would be glorious on the Saiyan; they were things that made even the strongest soldiers want to commit suicide on the spot, just to save themselves the agony.

All the strongest soldiers…save the very one he wished to manipulate.

Vegeta had never broken under his gaze. He had never cowered, never shown his fear. That pissed Frieza off to a certain degree.

It also excited him; the fact that he could not break him, the fact that Vegeta had presented him with a challenge. The things that had been done to Vegeta would have shattered the mind of any other person. Seeing his father's corpse, locked away in the dark for three years, bedding the greatest Dictator in the universe…

And yet, the brat still refused to break.

"LET ME OUT, YOU IMBECILES!"

So damn prideful. That was the problem. Vegeta refused to break because it would disgrace him, even more so than because he simply didn't want to be broken.

"YOU FOOLS WILL REGRET IMPRISONING THE PRINCE OF SAIYANS!"

Honestly, the boy had been down here for at least two hours. Maybe three. He should be huddling in a corner with glazed eyes. With any luck, he would need a memory wipe to snap him out of it, and Frieza could mold him as he wanted. Of course, he could do that anyway, but what fun would that be? It'd be so much more satisfying to break Vegeta himself.

"I WILL LAUGH AT YOU WHILE I TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB, AND TEAR OUT YOUR INTESTINES AND MAKE YOU EAT THEM!"

Well. The boy certainly was good at making threats. Of course, it could still use improvement…

"I WILL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU BASTARDS AND DANCE OVER YOUR CORPSES! YOU WILL WITHER IN THE GRAVE AT THE THOUGHT OF ME WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU!"

It was now loud enough to make his ears hurt, but his solemn expression did not change, nor his posture. He stopped in front of the Black Crevice, or at least, one of many, and suddenly, the shouting stopped.

Frieza snickered to himself. How smart his little pet was. Saiyan senses…they were nothing short of extraordinary. In fact, they had been the first thing about the monkeys that caught his attention.

Not that he wouldn't have eventually found and destroyed them anyway…

His eyes, purple instead of the red that came with his first form, darted to the small window in the door to the Crevice, which one could only open, or even see, from the outside. A small smirk played at the corner of his purple lips. He banished it away, putting on a more stoic expression again. He reached up, taking the tiny little door in his fingers, and pulled it open.

"Hello, Vege –"

A body suddenly slammed against the doorway, snarling and growling like a rabid animal. Frieza yanked his hand back, not too keen on getting anything bitten off.

"Now, now, little monkey, surely you can behave better than this in front of your Lord," Frieza chided.

More snarls were his only answer, though they were swiftly accompanied by another forceful thud against the metal.

Frieza sighed. "Foolish monkey. You knew this would happen, and yet you broke free anyway. Frankly, though you are powerful, I just don't see how that's possible."

"Maybe cause I don't sit on my ass all day," Vegeta growled from inside.

"Perhaps, but that has still never happened before."

"Guess I'm special."

Frieza chuckled, and it sent shivers up Vegeta's spine. "Oh, I wouldn't deny it. But do tell, what about that girl is so wonderful that you felt the need to punish yourself in order to get to her?"

A pause. "What girl?"

Frieza sent a small Ki orb in through the tiny window. It was silent for a split second, and then the hallway exploded with light and an echoing boom, part of which was Vegeta's body slamming against the opposite wall.

"Don't play dumb with me, Vegeta."

"You know who she is."

"Yes. But that's not what I asked, now is it?"

"Do I look like I give a damn what you asked?"

"You should, if you want to live. Actually, I take that back. I might need you later. If you want the _girl_ to live, you'll do as I say."

Vegeta stopped. "She's…alive?"

"Of course, you fool. What with that silly attachment my sister has on her all of a sudden…but she won't be, if you refuse to cooperate."

"Bastard!" Vegeta hissed.

The Ice-jinn sighed. "So overdramatic. All I did was ask you a question."

"Hilko naiz, zuk enfermo munstroarengandik!" the Saiyan Prince roared.

"Oh, was that Saiya-go?"

_I'll kill you, you sick freak!_

"I haven't heard you speak it in such a long time," Frieza said thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, that doesn't answer the question, Vegeta."

"What do you care?" the Saiyan Prince growled.

"I like to know _all_ my solider's weaknesses," Frieza answered slyly. "You know that."

Vegeta's body rammed against the doorway again. "I AM NOT WEAK!" he yelled.

"Not by anyone else's standards, no."

"Zure heriotza, atsegin handiz emango niri," Vegeta hissed through his sharp teeth. _Your death will give me great pleasure._

"How hurtful. Well, since you neglected to answer me, I suppose I'll go find that girl –"

"You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Wouldn't I?"

Vegeta lunged at him, desperate to break through the door, but to no avail.

"What makes her special, Vegeta? Is she worth your sanity?"

"She is my _bakarra_. She is worth everything." It was the first time he had admitted it to anyone, himself included.

"Your Only One. How sweet." Frieza's voice dripped with both sarcasm and disgust. "I am surprised you allowed yourself to develop such petty attachments, Vegeta. Surely you know it will only lead to your demise."

"Shut up. Leave me in peace."

Frieza folded his arms, spinning on his heel and leaning against the Crevice. "You stun me, monkey."

Silence. Frieza could practically hear Vegeta's eyes narrowing, his upper canines grinding against his lower teeth as he clenched his jaw. He didn't flinch when Vegeta once again rammed into the doorway, right against where the Ice-jinn was.

"You stun me," Frieza continued, "because you are exactly like your father. The resemblance is uncanny."

Inside, Vegeta froze.

"Vegeta always refused to speak about your mother, and it always irritated me to no end. At first, I thought it was because of some dead warrior's honor code, or some other bullshit, but eventually I found out that Saiyans simply don't discuss their mates with other males. You're so territorial."

A growl. "She is not my mate."

"No, but as you said, she is you _bakarra_. And since you Saiyans suck at verbally explaining your vocabulary, I'm going to assume that means she means more to you than a "friend". Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong, monkey."

"Don't talk to me about her, you bastard! You know nothing of Saiyan courtship! Silence!"

It was fairly safe to say that Frieza talking to him about this weired him out. Seriously, what did the lizard freak _really_ want, anyway? Surely he didn't come down to give him a lecture on females.

"Respect your master, monkey prince."

"Fuck you, jackass."

Frieza chuckled. "Are you really that desperate, monkey? I realize it's been two months –"

A feral roar shook the entire hallway.

The Ice-jinn Prince shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, Vegeta, such a temper."

"What the hell do you want, asshole?"

Frieza casually tossed another Ki ball over his shoulder and into the little window. Vegeta instantly curled himself into a ball in the farthest corner, which, all things considered, wasn't far at all, and winced as he felt the skin on his arms being scorched.

"I want to know what it is about her that awakens your power."

Silence.

"Something about seeing her in danger makes you stronger, and I want to know what it is."

Nothing.

"Monkey, you have ten seconds to answer me before I go find her and blow off her head."

Vegeta grit his teeth. "She is not enhancing my power."

"I think she is."

"Humans are weaklings with hardly any abilities. She is not increasing my power."

"Oh contraire, dear Prince. I have heard that humans have magical creatures called witches and demons among them. For all I know, she could be using sorcery. It would explain her combat skills, no?"

"She isn't a witch."

"What is it then? Enough of this, Vegeta. I do hate playing investigator."

"Nothing."

"Do you mistake me for a fool?"

"Mistake?"

_BOOM!_

A cry of pain resonated through the metal hallway; it was loud, exceptionally so, for it only had a small window to escape from, and still it could be heard clear to the floor above it.

"Wretched brat."

"Piece of shit."

_BOOM!_

"Who gave you that power, Vegeta?"

"It's mine. Nobody _gave_ it to me."

"Bullshit."

"Believe what you want. I don't lie."

"Perhaps not," Frieza said. "But that by no means disallows you to dance around the truth."

"She has done nothing to me."

A pause. "Vegeta, how long have you been in there?"

"How the hell should I know?" the Saiyan Prince retorted.

"Just an estimate."

"Two, maybe three hours."

"Very well. You shall remain here seven hours more."

"What?" Vegeta yelled.

Frieza snorted. "What, you thought you could talk to me in such a way, not give me the information I wanted, a_nd _get away with it? If you'd been a good boy, your time would have been up in a mere _two_ hours. Remember, my Prince; you brought this upon yourself."

The tyrant stood and snickered, shutting the window and locking it back into place. "Perhaps," he said, knowing Vegeta could still hear him, "If I'm feeling rowdy later, I will punish you further."

His footsteps once again echoed as they disappeared down the hall. Vegeta shuddered, with disgust, hate, fear, or all of the above, he couldn't say.

* * *

><p>"I hope you know that these halls echo like crazy, so you can't be down here arguing and stomping your feet like Ice-lings"<p>

**Yeah, yeah, yeah. **

"Was that a "why-yes-of-course-I-will-behave-myself-yeah-yeah-yeah" or an "I-paid-no-attention-to-that-and-I-regret-nothing-yeah-yeah-yeah?"

…**Yeah yeah yeah.**

"Bitch."

Bulma stuck her tongue out at the Ice-jinn, who rolled her eyes. "You are going to get me in huge trouble if you don't be quiet, B."

**Sorry, **the blue haired warriorette said. **I really appreciate this, by the way. **

"Don't worry about it. I'm thinking of ways you can repay me, anyway." She let out a soft, evil laugh.

**That was really creepy, Shiver.**

"Aww, thanks! I've been working on my Idiot Brother Imitation."

**Well, I've never heard Frieza laugh, but I'm pretty sure that was fairly close. **

"Sweet. Well, The Black Crevices are around that corner. Almost there."

Bulma took a shaky deep breath. She was nervous, not just because she didn't know how awkward it would be after their argument, but because she was afraid of what she would see when she got there.

From what she knew, she had been out for four hours. Vegeta had tried to get to her when she passed out in front of the arena stairway. He had been restrained and brought here immediately after. She knew he was by no means afraid of being alone or in the dark, but their cell had been adequately large for the past year and a half. How was he supposed to adjust to such a small space?

They came around the corner, and Bulma gasped.

Lined up against the wall were a row of tall black boxes that could have been mistaken for a box-shaped coffin, each one slightly larger than the one before to accommodate the largest of warriors. There were ten, the first being three feet tall, and the last being 13 feet.

What kind of freaks were 13 feet tall?

"That's…strange," Shiver said suddenly.

Bulma swallowed. **What is?**

"I could have sworn I heard Vegeta yelling down here an hour or so ago."

Oh, shit.

Bulma's eyes immediately locked onto the six foot Crevice; Vegeta wouldn't have been able to fit in the 5 foot one, as he was 5'1, possibly 5'2. She felt his energy inside; it was seemingly steady, but that meant nothing.

She rushed to it, and upon seeing the tiny window that was just above her head, unlocked it and yanked it open.

**Vegeta – **

She shrieked silently and fell back as a shape from the inside lunged at her, snarling savagely. Vegeta's arm shot through the tiny window, his fingers clawing at the air for a moment before disappearing inside again. It was burned, Bulma noticed; someone had hurt him before she had come.

"You okay?" Shiver asked, helping Bulma to her feet.

**He attacked me,** Bulma whispered, tears brimming in her blue eyes.

"He's just disoriented."

**He's insane. **

Shiver bit her lip.

Bulma brushed her tears away and bravely walked back up to the window.

"Careful!" Shiver warned.

Bulma took another shaky breath and reached toward the window again. **Vegeta? **

This time, when he shot towards the window, she didn't fall back in time. His strong hand clamped onto her neck like a vice as he levitated to see out the opening, bringing her to his eye level. Bulma squirmed in his grasp, gasping for air. Shiver darted forward, but stopped when Bulma held up her hand.

**Vegeta**…

His eyes were glazed over and unfocused, unseeing. His body trembled, his skin glistening with sweat. Blue fire licked at his muscles, just enough to slightly burn her neck. Her small left hand grabbed his wrist, her right reaching for his face but only making it as far as his bicep.

**Vegeta, it's me. Remember? Little One? **

He snarled, squeezing a bit tighter.

He had to remember. He had to. Otherwise…well, he would have simply crushed her. Some part of him remembered that she was fragile.

**Remember, I called you Fuzzy Butt and you pretended to get mad at me? **

He blinked, his grip loosening slightly again, though his eyes still portrayed nothing except bloodlust.

'**Member when you got that red glass off my hands? And when I nearly shot off Cuzodae's nose? **

The only sound was their labored breathing. He held her now so that she could breathe, and would have dropped her if she hadn't begun to fly herself.

**Remember when Zarbon disintegrated the bars in our cell, and you lay with me because my cot was broken?**

His lips parted slightly, and his fingers slipped from her slender neck. "Bulma," he whispered.

**Oh, thank God…**

She reached inside the window and wrapped an arm around his neck. He nuzzled her affectionately, their cheeks touching as he buried his face in her blue hair. Now gentle, he brushed his knuckles against her face, his eyes closes as he used every one of his senses to make sure she was actually there.

"You lived," he breathed.

**Of course I did, you idiot! What the hell were you thinking, breaking your chains like that? Now look at you! **

She was crying. He hated it when she cried, he really did. The salty smell of her tears assaulted his nose, rolling down from her eyes and against his cheek.

**I'm sorry, **she sniffled. **I didn't mean to yell at you earlier. I – **

"I was being stupid," Vegeta interrupted. "I was…I was denying my _bakarra; _it was against my instincts, and that's why I was disagreeable."

Bulma heard Shiver's sharp intake of breath at the word.

**What does **_**bakarra**_** mean? **She asked.

"I don't know the word in Standard. It's Saiya-go. Loosely translated, it means…" he hesitated, suddenly embarrassed.

**What?**

"My…my only one," he finally said. "The only one I would give my life for."

Hot breath floated across his skin as Bulma let out a silent sob, tears coming heavily now. **You would die for me.**

"Yes."

Her tears practically burned his skin; more than anything, even more than he wanted out, he wished she would stop. It reminded him of his mother, the last he'd seen her, but more importantly, anytime she cried something wrenched in his stomach. It was an indescribable ache, almost like physical pain, but worse.

**You almost gave me a heart attack,** Bulma accused shakily.

"Says the girl that passed out in the middle of the ring."

**Hey, that wasn't my fault,** she said, trying to pull back and look at him. He gripped her shoulders, refusing to let her do so.

"You scared me, Onna."

**I thought the Prince of Saiyans wasn't scared of anything, **she teased weakly.

"I fear nothing, but I felt something...akin…to fear, like dread, but worse."

**I'll try harder not to get killed next time. **

"You'd better."

Shiver cleared her throat. Bulma glanced back at her, almost indifferently. "I'll just, uh, go stand guard or something," the Ice-jinn princess said awkwardly, fleeing after she'd made the announcement.

Bulma sighed and turned back to Vegeta, breathing in the spicy scent of his strong neck. He shuddered gently, lowing his head to sniff her jaw at her pulse, where her scent was strongest. Her shoulders hunched slightly, but she didn't flinch, and he growled softly upon the realization that he couldn't affect her the same way she did him. Knowing what he had growled for, Bulma turned so her lips rested at his ear, smiling.

**You know that's not where I'm ticklish, Vegeta.**

"Vulgar female."

**Jerk.**

"Banshee."

They were silent for a minutes, leaning into each other.

**How long will you be in here?** Bulma asked.

"I've been in here for 4 so far…so, 6 more hours."

She jerked back, her blue eyes filled with horror. **What? That's insane! That might – **

"Make me lose my mind," he sighed. "I know. It's…already happening."

**Don't talk like that! **

He sighed again. "Bulma – "

Fresh tears poured out of her eyes. **You are not…you won't – you can't…**

"Do you see how small this room is Little One?"

She brushed at her eyes, wiping away tears, and nodded. It was the size of a small dressing room in the mall and completely dark; the only source of light was the window through which they spoke, and it was closed much more often than not.

"It gets smaller," he said quietly.

Bulma blinked. **What?**

"I swear it," he said, his voice shaking as he backed away from her. "It gets smaller. I..I felt it, I know it did – "

Bulma eyed the walls carefully. As advanced as alien technology was, there was no possible way for the room to get smaller without the corners sliding over the middle of the walls, and that would mean that the boxes would be covered with thin lines that separated the metal, and the big screws that seemed to be on everything here. The only thing that was on the box was the hinges for the door.

**Vegeta, **she said gently. **That's not possible. Rooms like this can't get smaller. **

"It did," he insisted. "It did. I saw it."

**It's pitch black in there. You can't see anything. It's all in your head, Veggie. **

"They make it smaller," he said again, and his dark eyes suddenly took a wild look, not completely glazed over, but well on their way.

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand, her brows knitting together as she fought to hold back more tears. **Oh, Vegeta…**

He whimpered, and Bulma burst into tears, sinking from her elevated position to her knees on the ground.

It was such an un-Vegeta-like thing, to whimper.

**It's not fair! **she cried. **It's not fair, dammit! Why do we have to suffer? What the hell did we do to deserve this?**

Vegeta whined upon her sudden disappearance from his sight, his hand just an inch from her hair as he reached for her out the window. Bulma sobbed a few more times until she lifted her head slightly, just enough for him to touch. Her cries cut off abruptly, a surprised hiccup escaping her lips. **Oh, Vegeta, you're going to hurt yourself! **she cried. Too late; his shoulder was already digging into the edge of the window, so hard that blood was welling at the cut and running down his muscled arm.

"Hmmmph," he whined again. His arm swung back and forth, as if searching for her hair, his hands outstretched.

She took his hand in hers, more to just feel him there than to make him stop, and climbed to her feet. His grip was bone crushing, and she bit her lip as pain shot through her fingers.

**Vegeta, you're hurting me, **she said softly.

He blinked, the life returning to his eyes, and he dropped her hand. "I didn't mean to."

Bulma brushed more tears away. **It's alright. **

"It's not."

**Do you have to disagree about everything? **

"Do _you_ need to ask?"

_See?_ Bulma told herself as she reached inside and grabbed his arm, pulling him close again and pressing her forehead against his. _See, he can get better. It's just flickers…he'll be okay…_

Six more hours…

**You can make it, **she whispered forcefully. **You have to. **

"I'll sure damn try."

Shiver reappeared around the corner, an urgent frown residing on her face. "B, we gotta go. Someone's coming. They'll be here in a few minutes."

Vegeta scowled fiercely, and Bulma gritted her teeth. **You're the Princess; make them go away!**

"I'm not supposed to be down here! What if somebody tells Frieza? He'll kill me!"

**So tell your Dad!**

"Then I'll get in trouble with _him_! That's worse!"

Bulma hissed. Vegeta growled low in his throat; it was a subconscious reaction, which Bulma jumped at. He nuzzled her soothingly to calm her, his black eyes flashing to Shiver glaringly before falling on Bulma again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, for once unable to match his piercing gaze. It was a sane gaze, she noted with relief; the black orbs danced with fire and determination. His hands came up to cup her face, firm but gentle.

"Look at me," he said.

She opened her eyes slowly, _more_ tears brimming underneath her blue lashes, much to her dismay.

**I'll come back at halftime if I can, **she said.

He nodded. "I'll miss your battle, most likely. Fight smart. Remember to focus your Ki, and look for openings in their attacks. That will lead you to notice the holes in their defenses."

**I know, Sensei. **

He forced a smile. "Alright. Kick their asses."

She laughed bitterly. **Sure. **

"Bulma, hurry!" Shiver hissed.

**I'll try to reach you through the bond, **Bulma said, ignoring the Ice-jinn.

"This damn place is Ki proof."

**Tough, **she said defiantly, though her voice still shook. **Tough damn luck. Our bond is stronger than any damn Ki restraint. **

"I know."

Bulma quickly released him, bending down and ripping a piece of cloth from her pant leg and tying it to the cut on his arm.

**Don't hurt yourself again, **she ordered.

He nodded once.

Bulma pried her fingers from him, her eyes trained on his as she stepped away. **I'll be back, **she said again.

"I know."

Shiver tugged on her arm. "Come on!"

Bulma let her pull her away, still frowning. **Bye, Vegeta. **Shiver quickly closed the door and started dragging the blue-haired teen towards the exit.

Vegeta did not answer Bulma's farewell. At least, not until she had turned away and had just made it to the corner of the hall.

He laughed. It echoed off the tiny space; the room kept sound out, but not in. "Bakarra, bakarra," he laughed. "Bakarra, bakarra bakarra!"

Bulma gaped in horror. He was losing it again.

"Bakarra!" _Thud. _

"Keep walking!" Shiver hissed.

**He's hurting himself again! **Bulma screeched, trying to pull away.

"Do you not understand that if we get caught, you _die_?"

**I have to get him to stop!**

Shiver grabbed Bulma around the waist and scooped her up like a rag doll, taking off down the hallway. Bulma slammed her little fist into the Ice-jinn's back but Shiver felt nothing.

"Bakarra! Bakarra, bakarra!" his laugher started to dwindle, sounding more desperate and panicked the longer he called.

_Thud!_

"Bakarra, nire bakarra, nire borrokalaria neska apur, niri uzten zuen, bakarra bakarra!"

_THUD!_

Bulma started crying again as she listened to the dull sounds of his body against metal, his laughter slowly becoming anguished cries the farther away they got.

Shiver fazed in and out of sight, avoiding the person coming down the halls until they were back outside the locker room. Bulma clenched her fists as the Ice-jinn sat her down.

**Shiver, do you know when my next battle is?**

"A few hours, at the most," she said. "I'm sorry, I wished you could have stayed longer, but –"

**It's alright. **

It clearly wasn't.

**I'm…going to my room. Tell me when it's about a half hour before my turn. **

"Okay."

Bulma started for the hallway that led to her room, but stopped. **Shiv, do you speak Saiya-go at all?**

"A little."

**Do you know what he said?**

Shiver looked away. "He said, 'Only One, my Only One, my little fighter girl, she leaves me.'"

Bulma nodded briskly, retreating to her room before she collapsed on her bed in a fit of tears, thoroughly exhausted, emotionally drained, and wishing more than anything that she and Vegeta could go home…

Where she would be safe.

_I can't take it anymore…_

* * *

><p>It has been hours. He lost count of how many.<p>

He sat curled up in the right corner of the tiny box, which might as well have been the middle, all things considered, perfectly still, and perfectly silent.

He didn't remember if he liked silence or not. Silence made him taste lonely, but it also reminded him who was here. In the end, his Saiyan need to be around people won over; the silence was ugly and cruel to him, and he wanted to kill it, to feel its blood on his hands.

His eyes were closed; he could see everything, even the shadows and the ghouls that whispered in his ears and caressed his cheeks. He smelled them breathing on his lips, and he shrank back, melding himself to the metal.

It was black. He could taste the darkness, closing in around him. He heard it pulling at his skin, and felt it dance in front of his eyes.

Something wet trailed down from his temple. It was everywhere, on his hands and on his wrist, on his back and on his shoulders, on his calves and his feet. He listened; it sounded metallic, bitter. It dripped into his eyes, and he blinked furiously; if it got in his eyes, he reasoned, he wouldn't be able to hear properly.

The metal sounded funny too. It sounded rough and dark, and cold.

He opened his eyes, and a grunt resounded through the tight space. The grunt looked pained and confused, and he wondered whose grunt it was.

The darkness whispered to him, telling him stories about a pretty girl with blue hair. She laughed at him, and it stung his cheek like fire.

He thought he remembered what light tasted like. It was hazy in his memory; a light, airy taste, like cake. He remembered sound, too; it felt soft, like feathers, and loud, like rock.

"Bakarra," he said.

Why couldn't anyone see him, as loud as he was?

The ghouls whispered to him, poked and prodded at his mind, and he had a thought that someone was trying to find him.

_Vegeta, can you hear me? I broke it! I broke the barrier! Can you hear me, Veggie? Vegeta? Vegeta!_

His body, suddenly hot and sweating, tasted good against the cool metal as he saw the voices. He leaned against it, though his body ached; he was thirsty, and hungry. He wanted food to drink and water to eat.

_Vegeta! Please answer me! _

"Bulma," he whispered, and the word, though seemingly foreign, smelled good on his lips.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Poor Veggie-san, I have sent him into the cold abyss that is insanity.**

**And poor Bulma-san, freaking out in a tank. If I remember right, Vegeta had a little issue with tanks too XD**

**This one was fluffy. I am a sucker for fluff, get used to it. Also, I feel that this was a bit anticlimatic. Unfortunately, it was totally necessarily. Once again I did not cover everything I wanted but as usual it was getting too long, hence the filler/battle pattern I will now start using. ****This chapter, as I said, was a filler and entirely B/V, because I am that kind of girl that need breaks in between crazy awesome battles.**

**For the Saiya-go verbal lan****guage, I have used Basque. However, since Basque is written with normal (for me anyway) English letters, I decided that I will use Serbian as Saiyan writing because it looks more symbol-y. So if I ever have Saiya-go writing in the story do not read it like regular writing because they will be alien symbols.**

**Also, I don't care if the grammar is wrong or makes no sense because he is not speaking those languages, he is speaking Saiya-go.**

**I hope you guys liked this, there will be more about the mysterious Prisoner, Cinee, Frieza and some weird ass person I'll make up to fight Bulma next chapter. I think.**

**Bulma is better but now Veggie-kun is in trouble! How can our beautiful Saiyan Prince survive this claustrophobically mind blowing experience?**

**I want 20 REVIEWS before I write the next chapter! Or more, that'd be great!**

**~KimiruMai**


	15. Vegeta's Lullaby

**A/N: Anybody go see the Hunger Games? I saw it a few weeks ago when I started writing this chapter and it was FABULOUS! The song Safe and Sound inspired me and I loved it so much I had to incorporate it (I was looking for one anyhow), and since the movie and book was so awesome and freaking incredible, I am sure you won't mind XD**

**Holy cow, that's like, 44 reviews last chapter! Dang! **

**Anyway, I want to make something clear. First of all, while Vegeta is mentally stronger than pretty much anybody, let's remember that the space is in is hardly bigger than a small dressing room, like, two feet by two feet. Not a lot of space, plus pitch black darkness. Also, he is very stressed right now; even though he knew Bulma was alive he had no clue as to what her condition was, and now he is worried about the current match. And I am trying to make him partially insane, not completely detached from the universe. That ruins the fun. He has to have **_**some **_**of his mind left, so I think a couple hours of craziness ought to do it. Let****'s remember that he was a little bit insane from the beginning, and he hasn't had nearly as many years to build up his "man of steel"ness that he has in the canon.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or The Hunger Games, hence the term FANfiction.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Vegeta's Lullaby.<strong>

_*Present Time*_

It is dark. I cannot see.

Sometimes I think I can see, but then I blink, and it is gone.

Sometimes I think I can hear something too, but that is silly, because no one is here.

Just me and the whispers.

I groaned and gripped my hair, think that maybe, if I pulled hard enough, the pain would make them go away. If it would have grown back, I might've ripped it out.

I would give anything for water to eat. My stomach is aching with pain; I have not had water since we were roused this morning. I long for food as well; my throat is dry and hoarse from screaming, begging for something to drink. I think of those cookie things my Little One promised me once, and I think that maybe those would ease my burning throat.

"Bakarra," someone says. "Ekarri bere bizkarrean, ekarri nire bakarra!" _Bring her back, bring me my Only One! _

I growled. The language is Saiya-go, and the speaker's voice is deep and rugged, male. What imbecile dares to call what belongs to me his?

"MINE!" I hissed.

_MINE! MINE! Mine! mine! _

And now the fool dares to mock me! Me, the Prince of Saiyans!

"Nire neska! Mina!" I howled. _My girl! Mine! _

_MINA! MINA! Mina! mina! _

I roared in fury and jumped to my feet, ramming my body against my confinements. I feel a dull ache in my shoulder where my body came into contact with the metal, and I spun, searching for the intruder.

_There, _a whisper says. I feel it breathing down my neck, its wispy fingers turning my chin towards my enemy.

I rushed him again…it is a him, I am sure of it, but again I missed.

I hissed angrily. My enhanced senses should tell me exactly where he is! Why can I not find him?

_Vegeta, _someone whispers.

I paused. This voice is different. It's softer, lighter. Female, I decided.

I blinked. Something wet is falling into my eyes. I shake my head, and see soft splats against the walls around me. I can't let it get in my eyes. I want to hear who this new voice is.

But now, all I hear is darkness.

I whined, irritated, and sat back down in the corner. I balanced my arms on my knees and put my head down. Bad idea. My arms are covered with wetness too. I taste it smearing on my forehead and in my hair. I can hear it, I think. It sounds bitter and metallic, red.

I think it might be blood, but I don't know who is belongs too. Perhaps I did hit that other male, and just didn't realize it. Though, it still baffles me that I can't seem to locate him in this tiny space.

_Vegeta? _

They're looking for me. I sense nothing malicious, but instead, something akin to worry. Desperation, perhaps.

"Bakarra," I said suddenly.

_Vegeta, can you hear me? I broke it! I broke the barrier! Vegeta? Vegeta! _

I sighed, and leaned my head against the wall. It tastes rough and cold and dark.

"Bulma," I said. The word tasted foreign, and it smelled like căpşunes.

The whispers hissed, as if angry that I dared to speak to someone else. They bit at my ears and lips, and pulled at my hair. I howled in protest, shaking my head wildly, as if that would get them off.

And then…something is there.

I become perfectly still, smelling the footfalls that are coming closer. Someone is here. They open the door very slowly. Light pours it, sweet on my tongue…

And I lunged.

* * *

><p><em>*Hours Earlier*<em>

My eyes burned from crying. I had fallen asleep with my face buried in my pillow for an hour; I now only had two hours left to somehow fix my shattered watch and get myself together.

I climbed off my bed and reached for the broken contraption sitting on my dresser. The glass was covered in jagged cracks, and the wristband was frayed. I growled to myself. Curse that mole monster! It took me forever to make this thing!

Well, fine.

I grinned halfheartedly, and opened my drawer. Inside were four more watches.

They were all perfectly identical to the first; no one would know that I had more, and that's how I wanted it. Technically, that was cheating, but under circumstances like these, I would do anything it took to win; hence my last five kills. I had eight more times to get shot before I was out of options. I had wanted to save them all for my final battle, or at least until I had to fight Cuzodae. She was by far the most dangerous as far as I knew, and would probably get some good hits in if I wasn't careful. I had five battles left…my performance must be perfect.

For Vegeta.

Well, now that I've deducted that my first watch is broken beyond repair, time to get busy on important things.

Like breaking that damn Ki barrier.

I sank to the floor Indian style and closed my eyes. My brow furrowed as I concentrated, pushing out my mind.

_SLAM!_

It wasn't a physical punch, but it felt like a punch nonetheless. I felt like I'd rammed my head against a brick wall. I groaned and rubbed my temples, but I tried again. Each time, I pushed harder, and the punches got substantially weaker. My head hurt so much that I found myself checking for blood, and at one point, I found a little residing on my lips. I gasped and panicked, rushing to the bathroom to get it off.

There had to be a way to break it.

But first…_I_ needed a break.

**Shiver? **I called telepathically.

'You okay?' she asked immediately.

**Yeah, I guess. I was wondering…do you have any music files from Earth? **

I should have thought of this earlier. I miss music so much. When I was a little kid, Mom would sing me this really pretty song, and I can't remember it. The lyrics are just escaping me, and I barely remember the melody. After all this horrendous mess, I suddenly really wanted to hear it. I was teetering on the verge of insanity, and I needed a lullaby.

'Yeah, we took everything from Earth, off some database called 'the Internet'. Did you want to access them?'

Something called the Internet. For some reason, that made me smile. **Have you got a website called Youtube?**

'Website?'

* * *

><p><em>*Two hours later*<em>

"IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT! AT 110 POUNDS, 8 FEET 6 INCHES, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 1209, ONE OF THE ONLY NIGHTMARES LEFT FROM MALETAK KIDEA, CETH!"

Bulma immediately deducted that since this opponent was so weak, almost as weak as Roec had been, Ceth must be a great fighter. No way could he make it this far in the Games otherwise.

"AND IN THE CORNER TO MY RIGHT, HER SIXTH BATTLE, AND ONE OF OUR VERY FAVORITES, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF...OH MY! AFTER SUCH A DESPERATING BATTLE AND BEING HEALED BY OUR WONDROUS REJUVENATION TANKS, OUR ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER'S POWER LEVEL HAS RISEN! NOW AT LEVEL 16, MISS BULMAAAAAAAAA BRIEEEEEEEEEEEEFS!"

16? Had Vegeta's Ki affected her that much that she now healed similarly? Did her power go up the little bit it did because he had healed her so many times? Well, whatever it was, she wasn't complaining.

Now back in her armor and out of the stupid gypsy costume, Bulma stepped onto the mat, her guard up and her Ki spiking. She gripped her gun, her blue eyes narrowing as she searched for the 'Nightmare', hoping desperately that his people's namesake wasn't quite as literal as she feared.

Somehow, though, she doubted it.

Why couldn't she see him? Was he invisible?

Suddenly, a dagger came out of nowhere and grazed her back. Her Saiyan armor saved her, thankfully; the Nightmare hadn't used much force.

That's when a thought struck her like a slap in the face.

If it grazed her armor, that meant…

Her watch was malfunctioning.

She whirled and stumbled, quickly straightening her posture and holding up her Glock in both hands. Her arms shook as she fought her panic. She could do this, right? Did she really need a watch to take out somebody?

Course not. Vegeta had trained her better than that.

However, having a watch would have been reassuring.

Her blue eyes scanned the arena again, and suddenly, blood was dripping from her arm.

Bulma hissed, gripping her bicep in pain. **Coward!** She yelled. **Why don't you come out here and fight me like a man instead of hiding!**

_Where was he hiding?_

When another cut appeared as a reply, this time on her leg, Bulma's blood started to boil. The cut wasn't deep, just like the ones before it, but it was enough to draw blood and sting like fire.

She was seething, and that was not good.

"Control your anger!" Vegeta shouted.

She blinked and looked around, glancing up to the Prizes bench. Vegeta was not there, as she knew he wouldn't be. It was a memory, so real and vivid that she had though that the Prince had been calling to her in the flesh.

_*Flashback* _

"_Control your anger!" Vegeta shouted. _

_**I can't do that if you're purposely making me angry! **__Bulma yelled, sending a swift kick to his head. He blocked it and kicked his legs underneath her, sweeping her off her feet. She landed with a dull thud, spitting curses._

"_You aren't focusing," Vegeta said irritably, folding his arms. "You're letting your anger rule how you fight." _

_**Quit pissing me off then! **__she screeched. _

"_Your enemy isn't going to smile at you and help you up when you fall!" he yelled, sinking back into a fighting crouch. "They are going to taunt you and mock you and make you look weak! Now get up and fight me!" _

_Hissing in rage, Bulma jumped up and threw a right hook. He blocked it, and sent her one of his own. Bulma's hand lightly rested on his fist as she jumped back, her eyes blazing as she suddenly flipped him over her shoulder. The second his body hit the ground with a loud grunt escaping his lips, she was straddling him, punching him in the face for all she was worth. Every ounce of anger and hatred she had felt in the two and a half years she had been here poured out of her, and her Ki, now a subtle purple as a result of blue and red mixing together, flashed like fire._

_She screamed and screamed and screamed, her own silence infuriating her more, and she hit him for three minutes straight before she broke down in tears and collapsed on top of him. _

_He sat up slowly, his hand on her back to keep her steady. "Do you see now, Little One? If you don't channel your anger into your attacks, you get a large boosts, but then you lose momentum. Warriors can wait that out, and when your energy is gone, they will finish you." _

_Bulma's tiny frame shook as she sobbed. _

"_Don't cry," he whispered. "Please don't cry." _

_She reigned in her tears and looked up at him, only to burst into tears again when she saw the blood she had left on his lip. She gently brushed it away, and at the same time, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She latched onto him like a baby would to its parent, sobbing into his chest. _

"_Shh, it's alright. We're okay." He rocked her, cradled her like a child as she cried, until she fell asleep in his arms. _

_*End Flashback*_

Control your anger.

Bulma breathed in and out slowly, not moving an inch as her attacker leapt at her again and again. She did not feel vulnerable, not at all. Tiny cuts began to litter her body, but they were small, as if the knife couldn't get close to her.

Of course it couldn't. Her subtle flares of sub-consciousness and Ki were forcing the Nightmare away.

She closed her eyes and focused her energy. The Nightmare was still invisible to her, but if she could just…

Bulma cried out and sank to her knees as the blade came just a little bit too close to her throat. She had moved just in time to avoid being killed, and the knife had still nicked her neck.

_Focus. _

She closed her eyes…

Jumped to her feet…

Whirled…

And pulled the trigger.

The Nightmare cried out, and suddenly, he was visible. Bulma gasped in horror as what she could only describe as the Grim Reaper fell to the ground, his arm seeping with blood underneath his cloak.

"_Sinä pieni noita!_" Ceth hissed, reaching for the dagger that had fallen beside him.

You witchling!

Bulma had no clue what the monstrous thing had just said, nor did she care. She aimed her gun again, but Ceth suddenly _disintegrated_ into thin air.

**What the – **

She screeched upon feeling her other arm being slashed open, the wound a little deeper this time. Blood welled at the wound and slowly soaked through the blue spandex material. Bulma gripped her arm, gritting her teeth.

_Control your anger._

She closed her eyes, focusing her energy and listening for movements she couldn't see.

Ceth laughed softly in her ear.

Bulma's eyes shot open. How could he have possibly gotten that close without her sensing anything? And what's more, why hadn't he stabbed her in the back?

That's when she saw it.

Not _the_ Nightmare, but _a_ nightmare.

It was a dream, it had to be. Vegeta couldn't appear out of nowhere, and she would have felt his Ki spike if somebody hurt him outside that barrier. She'd have known.

So why, _why_ did his bloodied, broken body in front of her appear so real?

She sucked in her breath sharply, feeling the Nightmare's dagger graze her back again. She blinked and whirled, the image of her prince disappearing…only to be replaced with another.

"Kill me," Vegeta said, a sinister, cruel smirk on his lips. He wore blue training shorts and nothing else, as Prizes were expected to be. He spun a silver kunai nimbly in his fingers, and his arm was dripping in blood from a bullet wound.

She froze.

Vegeta laughed. "You can't, can you? Chikyuuans, so emotional, don't you agree? Nothing I do to you will make you attack me. Go ahead, prove me wrong."

Images of the cherry tree incident burned in Bulma's mind.

'_Would you kill me, if you viewed me as a threat?'_

_**Never. **_

Vegeta cackled wickedly. "Foolish girl! This is what happens to people who form petty attachments!" He lunged then, the kunai in his closed hand. Bulma leapt back just in time to avoid a lethal swipe to her neck. Her blue eyes widened with disbelief as a sadistic grin spread over Vegeta's features. His lips curled up over his sharp canines, his dark eyes wide with crazed bloodlust.

"You let petty emotions cloud you mind, and allowed me to harness them! This will be your downfall, Chikyuuan witch!" he yelled, shifting the kunai in his hand each time he swung to accommodate the direction of his blows. Bulma dodged each one, her shocked expression never leaving her face, even as she gritted her teeth in an attempt to convince herself that it wasn't real.

That's it!

She knew it wasn't him already, but before she took him out, she would show him that he had not fooled her, that _no one_ posed as her Prince against her and lived to tell about it!

Bulma drew her dagger, gripping the hilt tightly as the smooth Ki-metal gleamed in the light. The fake Vegeta's daunting grin faltered slightly, but he did not let up his attacks. His arm shot out, kunai ready to tear out her throat, but just as it reached her, she brought her own weapon up and blocked it.

The crowd gasped, whispering confusedly. How had the Nightmare changed himself into the Saiyan Prince? And…how would the Earthling fighter take him down when she clearly had an attachment to him?

The two contenders gritted their teeth and growled at each other as they pushed, their muscles straining at they fought to gain the upper hand. The shape-shifting Nightmare was stronger, but Bulma was far more determined. Metal screeched and sparked as the two deadly weapons grinded against each other. Bulma watched her opponent's shoulders and biceps tense, and they both pushed away simultaneously, grunting with the force of the indirect blows.

A bead of sweat rolled down Bulma's temple. Both she and the Nightmare were breathing heavily, but it was clear that they both still had stamina left to burn.

"Stupid girl," Ceth chuckled, thinking he still had her fooled.

**I thought I was your bakarra, **Bulma said, glaring at the larger fighter.

A flash of confusion flashed across Vegeta's handsome features. "My what?" Then, Ceth's eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

**Stupid man, **Bulma spat harshly.

She lunged, her knife raised. Ceth lurched back just in time to avoid getting his head lopped off by her vicious attack as she leapt in the air slightly above his head.

The tables had turned.

After almost three years of training with Vegeta and Shiver, Bulma had picked up new tricks – like being able to copy moves and techniques after seeing them happen a few times. That, plus her already trained skills at handling a knife enhanced the force of her attacks as she swiped her weapon left and right, up and down, and even diagonally, just as Ceth had done to her with his kunai moments ago.

**How dumb to you think I am? **Bulma demanded as she charged the imposter. Every so often her blade would graze his skin, drawing blood far easier that it would have were he actually Vegeta. **You think I don't know the difference between you, a cheating coward, and my Saiyan Prince? Moron! **

As "Vegeta's" eyes followed the path her of dagger, intent on blocking it, Bulma used his distraction to kick his kunai out of his hand and clear across the ring. He gave a surprised cry, and with his eyes now locked on his weapon, Bulma punched him in the face as hard as she could.

**First of all,** she announced as she continued her assault, **Vegeta called me his bakarra just a few hours ago, so he knows what it means, and he would never betray me!**

**Second!** She snapped, delivering a hard, swift kick to his side, **Vegeta wouldn't use a weapon, ever! Such an action would make him look weak! **

Ceth, still in Vegeta's form, spat out blood as Bulma leapt in the air and whirled, striking him in the head. **Thirdly, Vegeta's laugh is way more intimidating than yours! You sounded like some kind of dying hippo! Fourthly, Vegeta is downstairs in those stupid boxes anyhow!**

She punched and kicked him, her guns accidentally discarded. She caught his jaw and his gut gracefully at the same time, a female movement she had learned from Shiver, and while he doubled over, she slammed her elbow into his shoulder blades, sending him flying to the ground. Ceth jumped up, fury in his eyes.

**And lastly, **she called, anger evident in her voice, **Vegeta couldn't move so agonizingly slow if he tried! Do you have any idea how **_**fast**_** that boy is, you pitiful excuse of a warrior?**

She dove and swiped her knife at him again, and this time, it _really _connected with his flesh, tearing a large, ugly gash on his chest. It hurt her, to see Vegeta's dark eyes filled with hatred and blood on his chest because of her, even though…

_It's not him, _she told herself. _That is the freaking Grim Reaper come to life, and he's going down. _

Ceth screamed in pain and jumped away from her. "Slow!" he yelled in Standard, his true accent beginning to come through Vegeta's voice. "I'll show you who's slow!"

He fazed out of sight, but Bulma, now knowing what to look for, saw the air behind her shimmer. She whirled and thrust the knife forward. Half a nanosecond later, she heard a sickening _chuuchk, _followed by a soft _squish _and a dripping sound, all echoed by the silence of the crowd. She looked up and nearly fainted at what she saw.

"Vegeta's" eyes had opened wide with disbelief. Choked gasps escaped from his lips with his blood, and he looked down at the knife in his heart in horror before he looked up at her.

"How…?" he whispered.

Bulma swallowed. **Vegeta taught me, **she answered softly.

His black eyebrows furrowed, and he closed his mouth. Bulma pulled the dagger from his flesh quickly, strangely not wanting to cause him any more pain. His body jerked, and his eyes stared straight ahead as he fell backwards, dead.

Bulma stared at what appeared to be her Prince's corpse, panting heavily. Bile rose swiftly in her throat, and she gulped, failing to force it back down. Too quickly, she whirled away from the body – a mistake – and spilled what little contents she had in her stomach. The crowd's roaring rang dully in her ears, and when she glanced back at the bloodied corpse, all she saw was a tall, lanky figure cloaked in black.

She never did see Ceth's real face.

* * *

><p>"Hey, you're okay, you're okay," I said softly, hugging her. Bulma sobbed in my arms, tears pouring from her eyes like rain.<p>

"I didn't kill him, Shiver," she whispered, more to herself than to me.

I knew who she meant.

"Of course you didn't," I said, patting her head. "He's alive, downstairs."

"I know."

_*Back To Present Time* _

I put Bulma in the tank after her last battle, and she did not complain. Since it was only some deep cuts, she got to keep her underpants, which she was very glad about. I honestly don't see the purpose of this garments; I mean, what is the point of _clothing_, anyhow? We Ice-jinns don't need them. The closest we come to such things is our armor, and that is just worn for show.

I could not take her to see Vegeta again, though I would have killed to. Father had a few old friends visiting for the Games, and it was "direly important," he said, to show off his family to "this particular pack of numskulls".

Whatever.

It was such a long day. After I got Bulma the file she wanted from that Internet thingie and helped her clean up after her battle, _and _staying with Father to chat with those idiots (they _were_ rather stupid), I was exhausted. It was midnight by time I got to my suite, and I had four hours to sleep and then get up again. I couldn't even imagine what Bulma felt like. Geez…

Then, in the middle of the night, my precious sleep was so rudely interrupted.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!_

* * *

><p>The soldier trembled slightly. He did not want to wake the Princess, but then, it was either her or Frieza…<p>

Princess Shiver was friends with that Chikyuuan fighter, and the Chikyuu-jinn was friends with Vegeta, so perhaps…

"_WHAT!"_

The soldier swallowed. "Um, ma'am, this is Officer Namole speaking. We, uh, have a small problem down in the Black Crevice – "

"_And __**pray tell**__," _interrupted the chillingly cold voice over the scouter, _"What that has to do with __**me**__?"_

Namole swallowed again, fearing for his life. "Um, well, Princess, uh, your brother, Lord Frieza –"

"_Thank you for reminding me," _the Princess replied sarcastically. _"What about the little bastard?" _

By now, Namole had broken out in cold sweat, and his knees were starting to feel like jelly. He was not in charge of this, at least, not by himself, but the responsibility of contacting the Royal had been forced on him. "Lord Frieza gave specific orders not to disturb him…or Zarbon, tonight, and –"

"_ALRIGHT, THAT WAS __WAY__ MORE INFORMATION THAN NECESSARY!" _

The officer cleared his throat. "Pardon me, Your Grace. But…well, the prisoner, Prince Vegeta, was supposed to be let out nearly an hour and a half ago, but we can't get him to cooperate. Each time we try to set him free, he attacks us. He has already killed three of my men."

A pause. _"Crap." _

"Um, yes, Miss. The situation has gotten out of hand, and I was hoping that since you are acquainted with the Chikyuu girl, then – "

"_I'll be down in a minute. Try not to do something stupid before I get there, got it?" _

"Yes, Majesty."

Namole sighed, still uneasy about even being in the same hallway as the dangerous Prince. The men, five left and his two fellow officers sighed too, but in relief that someone was coming to save them. The first of the men had opened the door cautiously, but Vegeta had still attacked head on, and they barely had time to shut the door before the Saiyan had escaped, but not before he had literally _stuck his hand through the men's chest and yanked out their hearts. _

He gulped again, certain that today must be the day of his death. The Prince had fallen deathly silent, and that made Namole nervous. The tiny window of the Crevice was still open, as no one was willing to get close enough to close it, and it unnerved him that Vegeta hadn't tried to attack out the window…

Suddenly, the officer noticed a soft, flickering yellow light coming from the window.

"_Oh, and, Namole," Frieza said, "If Vegeta starts to…glow in yellow, for some reason, do try to find out why." _

"_Y-yes, sir." _

"_Good man. I'd hate to have to…punish you." _

Namole trembled at the memory, trying to decide who he feared most. Frieza would definitely find out if he disobeyed, but Vegeta clearly wanted to rip out his heart like the first men…

Eventually, Frieza won over.

The soft pulsing light was almost hypnotic; the men had been staring at it too, not quite sure what it was or if it was dangerous. They gaped at Namole as he slowly made his way forward, gripping a small tranq gun in his hand. As a Games Prize, they were not allowed to hurt him, but if he could tranquilize him, then…

Now, one might wonder why Vegeta was not tranquilized in the first place, and the reason for that was because the amount of dosage needed to take him down would cause the Prince to take a very long time to wake up, and he would not be ready for the last day of the Games in the morning. That was not acceptable.

But it would have to be in an emergency, Namole decided.

His limbs shook slightly as he stepped closer to the Black Crevice. His already tall, crazy hair stood on end, and his teeth all but chattered with fear. The soft light beckoned to him like his Divine Light, the one his people believed you would see right before you died. Fear gripped him, but he knew whatever Vegeta could dish out would not be nearly as bad as what Frieza would, so he continued.

_Just a little peek, _he told himself, _and then you can run like the dickens. _

He stood on his tiptoes and peered inside the small opening in the tall black box. Vegeta sat on his haunches in the corner, a pulsing orb in his hands that radiated gentle yellow light. It shined gently on his almost awed features, filling the small space.

The window was open…and Vegeta could use Ki.

He looked up at Namole suddenly, and a very evil grin spread over his face. His pearly white canines gleamed in the light as his lips lifted over the sharp points, and the Prince ran his dry tongue over them swiftly. His body was painted in blood, a lot of which was not his own, and his dark eyes shown with a killer's glint.

He laughed softly. Namole did not have time to back away before a tanned, muscled arm shot out, the Prince's hand closing over his heart.

"_Nire bakarra ezin badu, hiltzerakoan, naiz izango da,_" Vegeta grinned, and he dropped the officer's heart beside his dead body, disappearing inside the Crevice and falling silent once again.

The men that were left, which consisted of practically nameless soldiers, Appule , and a young, newly promoted officer named Cui, pressed themselves against the walls, all knowing both the penalty for leaving and the danger of staying.

_If my bakarra can't kill you, I will._

* * *

><p>"BULMA! WAKE UP!"<p>

The blue haired human opened the door quickly, wearing so-called pajamas and her long hair in a ponytail. Her eyes were red from exhaustion. **What's wrong? **She asked.

"Vegeta's going nuts! Everytime somebody tries to let him out, he kills them!"

Bulma's eyes widened. **I broke the mental barrier earlier but I couldn't talk to him! He wouldn't answer me! **she blurted.

"And now you know why! Come on!" Shiver said. "They think you can calm him down! Hurry up and get dressed!"

The door was promptly slammed in her face, and a minute later, Bulma yanked it open, now dressed in her armor again, and they took off running down the hall.

"My god you're slow!" Shiver cried.

**I am not! **Bulma huffed as they ran. **I'm going as fast as I can, which, by the way, is really fast for a human. I could probably be in the Olympics!**

Shiver shook her head. "So, do you have a plan, or what?"

**Charge in blindly and hope he doesn't kill me. **

"Okay, you know what? That's not even funny."

**Wasn't trying to be.**

The hallway had been unbearably long the first time around, when Bulma had been very worried. Now, she was on the verge of panic, and the stupid thing seemed to go on forever. Dread at what she would see when she got there pooled in her stomach, and she wished more than anything that she could have gone to see him again earlier.

But she knew what would have happened to them both if she did.

Finally, they made it. Bulma stopped short as the Black Crevices came into view, bile rising to her throat yet again. How bad was this day going to get?

Four bodies littered the ground, torn and mangled. Large gaping holes were present on each corpse, where the heart would have been, and the hearts themselves lay discarded beside the bodies.

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand. **Oh my God…** she whispered.

"Frieza will not be pleased," Shiver said gravely.

"Princess!"

The two looked over to were 5 soldiers and the two leaders left were crammed into the back corner of the hallway, far away from Vegeta's box.

"Princess," a young, purple soldier said, running up to them and bowing. "Prince Vegeta has killed three of our soldiers, and Officer Namole as well. I…I don't think there's anything we can do. He…he might have to be put down, Princess." His voice trembled slightly…it was the truth, all the soldiers had agreed, but…how did one tell an Ice-jinn that Lord Frieza's favorite might have to be killed?

Shiver said nothing. Instead, her pink eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted. She glanced at Bulma, and took one step back.

The blue haired fighter bristled with rage. **Put down? **she said through gritted teeth. **PUT DOWN? LIKE HE'S A FUCKING DOG? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?**

Cui stared at her, mouth agape. Realization flashed in his eyes as he suddenly realized who she was, and his eyes darted to her waist where her gun holster rested. Sure enough, the black weapon was hooked firmly inside, but he knew from watching the Games that she could whip it out in a flat second.

**He is not something you can just "put down" whenever the hell you feel like! **Bulma screeched. **How dare you! He is the Saiyan Prince, and you are nothing to him! As if you could kill him anyhow! Who do you think you are?**

Cui winced. "I –"

**You are nothing but a scrawny, fish-faced, sorry excuse for a warrior, and Vegeta could crush you with his pinky finger! **Bulma's fists were clenched so hard that her knuckles were white, and her jaw was set firmly, teeth partially bared. Her blue eyes blazed with fury, and Cui suddenly got the feeling that he was in grave danger.

"Little One?"

Bulma stopped her tirade and looked towards the Black Crevice. **Vegeta? **she asked.

Silence.

Bulma seemed to have frozen in place, her jaw working as she opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of the most rational solution. She only came to one.

**Let him out.**

"Are you nuts?" Cui exclaimed. "He's already killed four of us! We can't even get close to it without being attacked!"

Bulma turned her icy gaze on him again. **You can squat, can't you? Just stay away from the window and jump out of the way once you open it!**

Cui swallowed and shook his head. This girl was crazy. "You!" he said, pointing to a cowering soldier. "Go release the Saiyan!"

The soldier, Orlen, yelped. "Me?" he squeaked.

"Yes, you!"

The yellow alien gulped, then slowly made his way to the door. Vegeta had fallen completely silent again, and the armored aliens tensed, knowing what had come after such eerie silence before. Bulma, however, did not seem fazed, and that made them even more worried. After all, what kind of power might she really possess if she, a supposedly weak Chikyuuan, wasn't afraid of the Saiyan Prince?

Orlen crept up to the Crevice, making sure not to let himself be visible from the window. Still, he couldn't help but feel that the Prince's dark eyes followed his every move. He reached for the door cautiously, his fingers barely touching the door handle.

**Get a move on! **Bulma hissed. **He's already been in there way longer than he should have! **

Orlen gritted his teeth, his hand closing around the handle. The loud, almost obnoxious silence made the sound echo; the handle made a soft, barely audible _click._

And Vegeta burst through the door.

Orlen was dead before he could react. Vegeta's arm shot out, his fingers curled like claws as he sliced clean through Orlen. The alien soldier didn't even have time to spit out blood before his corpse hit the ground.

Vegeta howled and snarled like a madman. His body was covered in blood like war paint. His skin glistened with the metallic liquid, some of which were still welling from fresh cuts. His dark hair was matted and wild (or wilder than usual), as was his tail, and his eyes were narrowed with focused bloodlust.

The men cried out, and two tried to run. Their bodies hit the ground before they could even make it past the end of the row of Crevices.

Shiver sank into a fighting pose, as did the rest of the soldiers, though the latter were quaking with fear. Now there were only four of them left; the odds were not reassuring.

**Vegeta! **Bulma cried. She was the only one who stood relaxed, though her muscles tensed to move if necessary.

The Saiyan teen froze, slowly turning to look at her.

**Vegeta,** she said, softer this time. She stepped closer to him, her hands held up reassuringly. **It's alright, you're okay. Calm down, I'm right here. **

He breathed heavily, his eyes focusing and un-focusing as he looked at her. A bead of sweat rolled down his firm jaw, and his fists opened and closed repeatedly. His nails were caked with dry blood, and his hair was matted with it. His flesh was raw and bruised, and his training shorts were shredded with jagged tears. His tail darted angrily to and fro, a clear sign to stay away.

Without warning, Vegeta's knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, groaning. Bulma ran to him, pulling him up from the ground and hugging his battered form.

**Shh, it's okay. **

She ignored the fact that blood was seeping into her freshly cleaned clothes, and the fact that she was surrounded by heartless bodies. What she needed to focus on was helping her Prince.

She did not know how to handle this situation.

She knew how to comfort him when he was hurt, or angry, or despressed. She could handle emotional pain, physical pain…but how did you handle mental pain? She did not know how to handle an insane person. She didn't know what she could do to bring him back this time. Helping him remember would not cut it; the fact that he allowed himself to be touched was proof that he remembered enough. But how did she get him back to reality? How did she convince him that she was real, that everything here was real? That there were no voices, no shrinking rooms, no endless darkness?

So, she did the first thing people her age did when they didn't know something. She asked herself a very important question:

What would her parents do?

_Dad would build something cool, _she decided, _something so cool that it would take your mind off of all worries or troubles, something you could look at and just be amazed at life. But that is clearly out of the question._

_Mom…_

Her mother hadn't been the brightest star in the sky, that was true. But the seemingly naïve woman knew a lot more than she let on. She excelled in things like cooking and interior/exterior design, and she hadn't wanted Bulma to have her head stuck in the test tubes all the time. So, she had introduced her daughter to music.

Bunny Briefs had not been a fabulous singer, but she still sang. She hummed tunes or burst randomly into song thorough the day, and she could play the grand piano. That was one of the things Bulma missed about her mom – hearing homemade music and having it taught to her.

_Mom, _she decided, _would sing to me. _

Bulma petted Vegeta's hair, working out the kinks from the dried blood. She wanted to see him clean and healthy, like he should be. She knew he was malnourished and weakened from tough conditions, and not for the first time she wished with all her being that she could see him as he would be if he lived the life he was supposed to.

She had only memorized part of the melody, but it would be enough, she thought, and far better than nothing.

**Just close your eyes,  
>The sun is going down.<br>You'll be alright,  
>No one can hurt you now.<br>Come morning light,  
>You and I'll be safe,<br>and  
>sound. <strong>

She sang only in his head, not wanting the lullaby to be used against him later. She did not want them using it to calm him down when they wanted something; besides, it was the last thing she had from her mother. It was her lullaby.

Vegeta's too.

She didn't realize she was crying until she saw her tears falling into Vegeta's hair, and suddenly, he looked up at her, recognition in his eyes.

"Bakarra," he whispered. "Bulma."

Bulma nearly collapsed from relief, and an overjoyed smile erupted on her face. Vegeta opened his arms, just a little, but it was enough to make her tackle the Prince, feeling as if she hadn't seen him in ages.

"_Mina, mina_," he said softly. "_Esan nuen, nirea da._"

_Mine, mine. __I told you, she is mine._

The meaning in his words was so strong that it carried through his thoughts and to her mind, now translated into Standard. Tears sprang to her eyes; how long had he been talking to people who weren't there?

"You won your match," he said.

**Yes. ** Her voice quivered as she answered, and as she remembered her battle, she felt sick.

He frowned into her hair. "What?"

**He was a shapeshifter. **

He understood immediately, and his grip on her tightened.

Cui cleared his throat. "We, uh, need to take him to the Prizes Room."

Two pairs of eyes turned and glared at him, at which he shrunk back. Shiver sighed. "The least you cowards could do," she sniffed, "is get him a proper bath. He can't go to the Games looking like that."

Vegeta glanced down at himself, his eyes widening with alarm. Bulma touched his cheek. **It's not all yours, **she said, forcing a small smile.

"Not all," he muttered, distaste evident in his tone.

"Lord Frieza gave specific orders that he is to return immediately –" Cui interrupted.

**ALRIGHT! **Bulma exclaimed. Vegeta winced at the loud noise, but for once, she didn't notice. **Good God, can't you give us a minute of peace, for crying out loud!**

Appule, who had been silent up until now, stepped forward, regaining his foolish confidence as he reached for the Saiyan Prince. He glanced at Bulma, frowning. "I'll have to ask you to return to your room – "

Vegeta snapped his teeth at Appule's hand, giving the officer a feral snarl.

Appule yanked his hand back and hissed at Vegeta, who bared his teeth in retaliation.

"Freak!" Appule yelled.

**Says the man with purple skin, ** Bulma snickered.

"Silence, wench!"

Vegeta rose and spun on his heel (quite suddenly, one might add), and his fist connected with Appule's face. The alien officer roared, falling backwards. His nose was clearly broken and bleeding, and no matter how much he pinched it, the green-colored blood slushed out of his nostrils in thin, quick streams.

"No one is allowed to talk to her like that," Vegeta growled angrily, "except _me._"

**Gee, Vegeta, thanks, **Bulma said sarcastically.

He ignored her completely, snarling at Appule one more time before he crouched beside her again, pulling her to him. His muscled arms covered her abdomen and her head, as if he were expecting a bomb to go off at any second.

Bulma peeked out from underneath his vice grip, half of her face still buried in his chest. **If I can go with him for a couple of minutes, **she said, **and you guys don't try to pull something, I'm sure you can live throughout the rest of the night, **she negotiated.

"Maybe," Vegeta allotted, his voice hardened.

Cui and Appule glanced at Shiver, who rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "Let 'em do what they want," she said. "I'm going to bed. If I find out you laid a finger on either of them," she added coldly, "I will annihilate you painfully." With that, she spun on her heels and headed back to her suite.

The remaining soldiers eyed Vegeta warily, but did as she asked.

An hour later, Vegeta was clean, wounds already healing, and Bulma had a change of clothes (a slightly too big set of armor instead of a gypsy costume, thank Kami). They had both been given water and a small meal, much to Vegeta's relief, as well. The guards ushered them back to the Prize's room, where most slaves were already asleep. Bulma frowned at the tiny, dark space, glancing at Vegeta. To any other person, he did not seem fazed, but she could see the slight tensing of his muscles and the restrained furrow of his brow.

**You gonna be okay? **She asked.

He frowned. "Of course."

She said nothing, waiting patiently for him to tell her the truth.

His fists clenched suddenly, much to the alarm of the guards standing by. "I can't believe I lost control like that!" he hissed. "Do I have no stamina?"

Bulma put a hand on his shoulder. **You had a lot on your mind. **

"Tch," he spat. "I am a Saiyan Prince! I should have –"

**You were tired, worried, and trapped, **Bulma interrupted. **You lasted hours more than any other person would have. Stop beating yourself up.**

His dark eyes darted to the fresh pink marks lining his body, cruel reminders of his lapse in sanity.. Bulma frowned, noticing her mistake too late.

**You know that's not what I meant.**

"Hn."

Bulma sighed, reaching for his hand. She frowned when he moved it, looking at his hand as if it belonged to someone else.

**You want me to stay with you for a little bit? **She asked softly.

His head snapped up, his eyes flashing with emotion that no one else could have possibly caught. "No," he answered quickly. "You need rest for tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. **I'll take that as a yes,** she said. She looked to the guards and glared at them in warning, and stepped inside the small room with her Prince.

Instantly, Vegeta's muscles hardened, and he gritted his teeth. Bulma's hand on his arm was the only thing that kept him from tearing the place apart.

He growled savagely at a weakling Prize who had taken his usual cot, and the poor man jumped up and scurried out of the way.

"Vegeta!" Cineé cried upon seeing him. "Where was Vegeta gone for long, eh?"

"Not now, Cineé."

She yawned, not fazed by his cold exterior. "Okay. Hello, Chikyuu girl!"

**Hey, **Bulma smiled.

"What is Chikyuu girl doing here?"

**I'm just hanging with Vegeta for a little while. **

"Hanging?"

**Spending time with. **

"Ah. Well, Cineé is glad to see Chikyuu girl and Vegeta alive," the Rikonan said cheerfully, laying back down to sleep.

Bulma and Vegeta both laid on his cot, and Vegeta sighed. Bulma smoothed his hair and petted his tail soothingly. Soft purrs emanated from his chest, resonating from his throat.

"Sing that thing to me again," he said, softly so only she would hear.

**It's called a lullaby, you goof. My mom used to sing it when I was little. **

"Sing it again."

She smiled into his neck, at which she shivered, and full out grinned when she realized she remembered another piece of the lyrics.

**Don't you dare look out your window,  
>Darlin' everything's on fire.<br>The war outside our door keeps raging on.  
>Hold on to this lullaby,<br>Even when music's gone.  
>Gone.<strong>

**Just close your eyes,  
>The sun is going down.<br>You'll be alright,  
>No one can hurt you now.<br>Come morning light,  
>You and I'll be safe,<br>and  
>sound. <strong>

He nuzzled her gently, his dark lashes fluttering shut as he eventually drifted off. Bulma kissed his cheek and petted his tail as she rose, knowing better than to stay there. The guards glanced at her briefly, then avoided their eyes as she made her way back to her room.

Even though she only got two hours of sleep, Bulma woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I admit, a little OOC, but it's cute and you love it. XD ****I was going to do a section on the mystery person in black shorts, but it's getting kinda long. I hope the battle was good, not as crazy as Tobo's but good all the same.**

**I love love love that song, btw, memorized the whole thing after the 3****rd**** time I heard it. Also, I love making Veggie-san speak Saiya-go. ****I think that Bulma could be good at other things besides machines; I mean, I draw and I write, and sing too, so, hey, multi-talent people are awesome. XD So yeah, I'll have her playing the piano and stuff.**

**I calculated the average amount of reviews per chapter, not counting 14 cuz it got like 44 (sorry it took so long, got a major case of writers block). The average is 20. **

**So again, until there are 20 reviews, no updates for you *evil face*. **

**Also, first person to review gets the 300 mark. Come on, be special XD**

**P.S. MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW! 15 YEARS! XD**

**P.P.S. Give me a nice B-day present, go read my newest stories and review please :3**

**~KimiruMai**


	16. Disappearing Act

**A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!**

**I know your all about to kill me. I actually started this chapter in May but I had Finals and so yeah, back then that would have been my legitimate excuse ^_^' And I updated TOL and Comatose so you guys can't complain XD I have read every single one of your reviews, and I thoroughly appreciate them.**

**As I mentioned in the author's note of the latter story, I am on a Paramore craze. And a Red craze. They rank with Flyleaf and Skillet in my book. That should give you a good idea about how much I love them. **

**Anyhow, I am a genius and you are about to see why. JSYK, Sule's name (you'll see) is pronounced Soo - lay. **

**Prompt: Watch You Crawl ~ Red, Crash ~ Decyfer Down**

**Disclaimer: Muffin Button was never installed. Clearly a flaw that would have been fixed had it been me.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Disappearing Act. <strong>

I opened my eyes to a strange phenomenon that I never thought I would experience again…

Waking up with a smile on my face.

Okay, so we still weren't living in the best of circumstances. I was pretty sure that Vegeta was losing his sanity, and I was _probably_ well on my way to losing my own. Vegeta would probably have freak outs when we went back to our cell, but I knew that could slowly but surely be fixed.

But that didn't matter. Today was going to be great. The very last day of the Games was the longest; more battles had to take place so the losers could be killed off. So, because this day was extra-long, there would be three 'halftimes' instead of the usual one. I would get to see Vegeta three times as much today.

And, just to put the topping on the cake, I was going to win the Games. Vegeta and I would be free for six months. I could have Shiver get him equipment to train with, and we could be happy, at least, for a short while.

I didn't know what we were going to do after that, but for once, I did not care. I had my weapons, I had my ammo, I had my shields, and in a matter of hours, I would have Vegeta, too.

I slipped on a watch, making sure to check that it was working this time. I did not want a repeat of the Ceth fiasco. My newest watch worked like a charm; I even had Shiver throw a clump of metal at me just to double check. I still haven't gotten any idea as to why the energy I used for the shield turned to glass when Tobo broke it, but hey, if it came in handy once…

Just thinking of that freak still pisses me off. It's his fault Vegeta broke loose in the first place. It's his fault that my Prince was punished. Nevertheless, he is dead now, and of no concern to me.

Perhaps I have mentioned this before, but it truly does marvel me how horrid and monstrous I have become over the last three months.

I ate my crappy breakfast quickly and cheerfully, humming our lullaby in my head. My armor was clean and polished, and my weapons would gleam if you held them up to any amount of light. I had a skip in my step and a tune in my head. If I'd had shades on, you'd think I was the awesome being to ever roam the universe.

The other contenders are no longer chatting cordially with each other. Everyone keeps their distance, wary and untrusting, especially from me. They all know that only four of them are going to survive this day. From what I know, people that bother betting in the Weaponries Division have put their money on either me or Cuzodae.

She is a sadist, that one. I have seen her fight a few times after the day Vegeta told me that I was Light. She enjoys dragging out the deaths of her victims, making the blood spray as high as possible. I have watched her expressions carefully; I noticed how her face lights up when she sees the panic in her victims features, and the light leaving their eyes. She relishes in it, the same way Frieza does. She is the perfect killer, out to end lives just for the hell of it, just so she can say she did.

Fine then. She can do what she likes. I will kill her quickly, if only to be rid of her. Her prolonging, procrastinating strategies will do nothing to help her. Even if she has analyzed me even more than I have analyzed her, I'll give her a fight that her pride won't have time to recover from before I end her. Silver haired bitches are not permitted to stand in my way. I have come this far, and I have no intention of failing.

My first battle was scheduled in an hour. I had nothing to do until then. I was far too restless to train, Shiver was busy, I was not allowed to see Vegeta, and the Games did not allow me to build anything else that I might find beneficial in battle. Instead, I meditated, calming myself and focusing my Ki. I needed to have a steely focus today; nothing could distract me. Not goading, not emotions, not even my own wounds. I needed to focus on offense and defense, on strength and speed, on staying alive.

Staying alive, up until the very end, was all that mattered. Then, I would have my prize.

We'd be safe.

"It must be scary, knowing that you did all this just so you could go and die."

My jaw clenched, and my muscles tensed. I gritted my teeth and fought to resist reaching for my gun, saying nothing in reply.

"It must be especially scary knowing your future killer is right behind you."

My jaw actually ached, I was biting down so hard. I was glad that my tongue hadn't been in the way, or it'd be bleeding.

"How does it feel to know that the prize you sought after so much will be given to another?"

Alright, that's it.

I stood up from my cross-legged position, gun out and pointed by time my back had straightened. I glared at her hatefully, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that everyone had turned to stare at me.

Cuzodae's eyes widened for a moment, then slid back into their almost snake-like, narrowed form as she smirked at me. "Can't handle the truth, child?"

**Spewing lies again, Bitch? **I returned calmly.

"No lie, sweetie," she said, casually studying her long fingernails. "Everyone knows how attached you two are to each other. Quite a weakness, if you ask me, but then, the boy already demonstrated that, didn't he?"

**Don't you fucking talk about him, **I hissed. **Why in Kami's name do you want him anyway?**

She shrugged. "He's cute, and he's feisty. The ideal prize. Pretty much everyone has had their eye on him at some point, sweetheart. You're just too busy making eyes at him to notice."

A few people watching the spectacle snickered. I hardened my glare and swung my eyes to them, and they fell silent immediately. Turning back to Cuzodae, I said, **He's at least half your age.**

She glared at me. "Hardly. He is nearly 15, no? Merely six years beneath me. Besides, age is of no consequence. All that matters is how good he is in -"

My gun went off, so suddenly that the contestants jumped, and some cried out. Cuzodae's silver eyes slid to the matching silver hairs that were falling from their place halfway between her shoulder and her ear, and she frowned at me. "Well now," she said, "that wasn't very professional, Chikyuu girl."

**You are so lucky I'm not allowed you kill you right now, **I said.

I wasn't. It was against the rules to kill somebody outside of the tournament. If it weren't for Vegeta (or myself, for that matter), I probably would have gone ahead and shot her to death. She pissed me off that bad.

"Hm," she smirked. "Am I, now."

**Yes, well, **I said, very calmly, **I suppose I can wait until we get in the ring. Patience was never one of my virtues, but I suppose that will only make victory sweeter. **

She smirked again, and in the same tone, replied, "Of course. See you then, Chikyuu girl."

Cuzodae vanished into the thin crowd, which broke apart after I glared heatedly at them. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I closed my eyes and resumed my meditation. I needed to channel that anger into something productive.

That was something Vegeta had attempted to teach me, despite the fact that he kind of sucks at it himself sometimes.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes and blinked.<p>

Dark…and light…and….small…

I gasped and bolted upright on my cot. I found myself staring at the stirring prizes, who were all still exhausted, but not nearly as much as I was. It took me a moment to remember where I was, when the night's events came flooding back to me. On impulse, I scowled heavily, and a low growl rose in my throat. My flesh was met with spikes from the collar immediately, and my growl deepened. I stood slowly, not appreciating the rush of blood to my head.

"On your feet, maggots!" One of the guards yelled. "Day Four has begun! Line up!"

Cineé put her hand on my shoulder as we were herded into a group. It registered to me then how tense I was. She just smiled at me, white eyes twinkling, and she didn't seem fazed when I scowled back.

Figures.

Some of the prizes were smacked as they went out. The guards were trying to make them all look lively for their last day on the stands. It would be a long one, and it was doubtful that anyone would look lively. Ironically, they did not lay a hand on me.

We were handcuffed, as usual, and linked together with chains. They led us down the long hallways and into the area, where we were tied to our post. Observers were already beginning to arrive, most getting the seats towards the middle of the bleachers, where the battle arena wasn't too far or too close. They eyed us carefully, trying to figure which one of us would be taken by the Winners and which of us would be left for Buyers. No one much looked at me, and I supposed that would be the only good thing about being unstable.

We were allowed to sit on our bench for one hour before the first matches begun. Upon the beginning of the Fourth Day of the Games, we would be forced to stand. We would be given no food, no water, no bathroom breaks, not until we were chosen. Only then would we be freed.

And the torture would truly begin.

I scanned the Observation Deck (another name for the Contenders Bench) for Bulma, but I didn't see her. I saw those creepy Brench-jins, and I saw Cuzodae (shudder), but Bulma was nowhere to be seen. I didn't want to disturb her if she was doing something, so I didn't try contacting her through our bond.

The competition began, and the crowd screamed extra loud today. I winced, and Cineé gave me a sympathetic look. I ignored it and turned to the arena, scanning the completion. I saw the Brench-jin girl go up to fight, and though she won, I didn't much observe her. I had seen her fight before already, and from the way her cocky attitude was making her get a sloppy, I knew she wouldn't last much longer. Not long enough to go against Bulma, anyway.

I frowned suddenly. Something was wrong. I felt…energy…or rather, the lack thereof. There are too many people to pinpoint it, but I _know_ somebody just died.

And it wasn't anybody in the ring.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes.<p>

That was weird. I could swear I just felt something. It felt like a presence had disappeared. I was proud of my ability to feel people's minds without reading them, but this irritated me. It wasn't anyone significant, at least, not to me, but that meant I couldn't tell exactly who it belonged to. I wanted to assume it was somebody in the arena, but I still felt two minds fighting there.

Frowning deeply, I opened my link to Vegeta. I was pleased to find that his brainwaves were flowing naturally; and by naturally, I mean spiked with irritation.

**Vegeta? **

_Bulma,_ he replied immediately. _Shouldn't you be focusing, Bakarra?_

I smiled at the nickname. **I was. Did you feel that?**

_That disappearing energy?_

**Yes. It felt like a mind got turned off. Permanently. It felt close. **

_Keep your eyes open. If there is a killer around, he or she could very well target you. _

**I know. Do you think it was a Contestant? **

_The killer or the victim?_

**Either…both…I don't know.**

_It's possible. Like I said, keep an eye out, and keep your gun ready. _

**Are you kidding? I talked to Cuzodae ten minutes ago. My trigger finger is **_**itching**_**. **

_Not funny, Bakarra, _he said, but I knew he was smirking.

I chuckled, then sobered. **How are you feeling?**

_Super, _he said dryly.

**Not funny, Prince,** I returned.

_Hn. _

**Seriously though…are you alright?**

_I'm fine, Little One. You should be concerned with your upcoming fights, not me. _

**That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. I'm fighting for **_**you**_**. Of course I should be concerned. You're my friend. **

He said nothing, but I felt a small tug on my mind. Closing my eyes again, I sank into a meditative state, and found myself surrounded by the white background of _Being_. I glanced around and found him almost immediately, and our eyes met at the same time. I ran to him, leapt into his open arms, laughed as he breathed into my neck.

**This is it. We're finally going to have some peace. Can you believe it? **

"No," he said. "Yes. I don't know."

**Well, I can't. It just seems like such a long time ago that all this started, when it's only been four days. I'm getting excited!**

He pulled away and looked me in the eye. "Now isn't the time to be excited. Now is the time to be serious and focus."

**I know. And I am. **

He folded his arms and stared of into the distance that didn't actually exist. "These fighters will be the strongest you've faced yet. If they've made it this far, then they'll be worthy opponents. You aren't going to have time to strategize or think things through. You have to only think of the smartest options and execute them quickly. There is no room for mistakes."

I blushed, knowing what mistake he meant. **That isn't going to happen again, I swear.**

He huffed irritably. "It'd better not."

I tugged on his bangs, laughing when he scowled at me. **Hey, fuzz butt, those creepy girls still bothering you? **

His scowl deepened. "I don't pay attention to them."

**Yeah, but they sure pay attention to you.**

"Shut up."

**D'aww, is Veggie-kun upset that he's cute? **

"I AM NOT!"

**Cute, or upset? **

"Will you shut up for two seconds?" he growled. "I'm trying to be serious here."

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist. His tail snagged itself around my middle, and his arms around my back. I imagined another cherry tree behind us (one that wasn't on fire) and we sat. I kissed his palms, ignoring the fact that there were now scars all over his hands, and he kissed my knuckles. We leaned against each other and closed our eyes, breathing evenly.

**So…what do you think we should do when we get out of here? **I asked, petting his tail.

He purred in my ear, and I smiled as I felt the soft vibrations in his chest. "I don't know, Bakarra. I heard the winners get a suite, but I don't know if we count."

**Well, if it's a suite off the ship, that'd be great. That way we could escape without him noticing till we were long gone. We could disappear off the grid, get out of here, never see him again until you're ready to kick his ass - **

"Bulma -"

**Seriously, we could do it. Just get away from it all. He'd never find us. We could keep moving so he can't track us - **

"Bulma! We can't. I've got a tracking chip in my shoulder, okay? And even if I didn't, Frieza's spies are all over the universe like ants. He'd have wanted flyers sent to every screen in the empire. He'd find us anywhere. Anywhere I go, he'd find me. Easily." His voice sounded defeated, tired.

My shoulders slumped. **Oh. **

"Six months," he murmured. "Just six. No more." He didn't really want to believe it.

I squeezed his hand. **We'll figure out something.**

* * *

><p>I scowled at the creature, who had fallen eerily silent. I didn't like it when the Bio-experiment fell silent. It meant that it was stalking me.<p>

I chewed on a strand of my hair, wrinkling my nose at the dusty taste. My hair had never tasted particularly good anyhow, but it wasn't like I ate it. Old habits just die hard. I chewed my hair when I was nervous, or deep in thought.

Finally, I stood up and growled savagely at the creature. It jumped up, howling at me as it tried to reach through the bars. Good. That thing made me suspicious when it was quiet. Besides, Bio-experiment or no, this cell is creepy when all you can hear is your own breathing and all you can see is dull images and glittering eyes. Satisfied that it wasn't trying to find a way to escape and eat my face, I sat down Indian style and resumed chewing my hair. After a while, I tossed the fraying strands away and put my hands on either of my knees, staring the slobbering creature down.

It stared back at me, falling silent again save for heavy breathing. I brightened suddenly; finally, something to do!

"Alright, you freak," I said. "You wanna go? Fine. You're dealing with the master!" With that, I got my game face on, and began our staring match.

We stared and stared at each other. I fought the urge to look away; I would not lose to something with only half a mind. I have to admit though, he…it…was good. It struck me then that I must be really, _really_ bored to be doing something like this. Sad.

Finally, the Bio-experiment got bored and looked away. "HA!" I crowed. "That's what you get! I win!"

I yelped and jumped back as it suddenly leapt at the bars, snarling and slobbering everywhere. Apparently the thing was a sore loser.

The door opened suddenly. I jumped to my feet and sank into a half crouch in the back of the cell, fists up and ready to attack or defend. I blinked rapidly as the harsh hallway lights assaulted my eyes, and noticed a figure about my height (though malnourishment has made me skinny in comparison) standing in the doorway.

"Get up."

Ugh, it's Zarbon. That creep has a sultry voice that nauseates me.

"Why?" I demanded.

He scowled and took a step inside. Mr. Bio went crazy, screaming at him. Zarbon ignored it, and settled his golden gaze on me. I glared at him just as hatefully with my own dark eyes, and he gave me a sneer in return. "Excuse me, but you don't get to ask questions. I said get up, now get up. We're leaving."

I held back a whoop of joy. "To go where?"

His scowl deepened. "Planet 79."

_Great._

"Frieza want me for somethin'?"

He shrugged as he tied my _special _red blindfold and activated the energy cuffs. "Your guess is as good as mine. Now move."

I was forced into a pod and put into Stasis Sleep. When I awoke I would find myself on a planet with mildly warm temperatures, dark skies, and two moons, which I know from asking, not looking. I had no idea why I was being moved, or what Frieza could want that he needed to send Zarbon of all people to get me.

Imagine my surprise when I was put into the heaviest prisoners' training regime that the planet had to offer.

* * *

><p>It was time. My first battle of the Fourth Day was upon me. My adrenaline was pumping on high. I bounced on my toes, gun in hand, eager to get this thing over with. It was pointless to be afraid at this point. Even though I was about to commit homicide yet again, I did not let myself feel pathetic or pitiful. I hadn't lied to my Prince; I was excited.<p>

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! FIGHTING HER 7TH BATTLE, AGAINST ALL IMPOSSIBLE ODDS, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF MERELY 16, OUR ONE AND ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, MISS BULMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA !"

I stepped out into the arena and was immediately met with deafening cheers and hollers. Just for kicks, I flashed the audience a toothy grin, and they went wild. I reached casually for my belt, drawing my gun in a way that I knew kept them hanging on the edge of their seats with excitement. I didn't know why I wanted to entertain them at all. I didn't, really. Maybe I just felt like entertaining myself. I was in a strangely good mood today.

"AND IN THE OPPOSITE CORNER, FIGHTING HER 8TH, AT 5'10, 137 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 4002, SULE OF KANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

I narrowed my eyes, suddenly serious. I waited for my opponent to walk through those doors and challenge me. I waited for her to show me another face that I would have to obliterate. I waited for her to show up with some kind of special trick or ability that could very well take my life. I waited…

And nothing happened.

I frowned, and the crowd grew strangely quiet. I saw people literally hanging off the edge of their seats, trying to peer into the arena to see the second fighter. My blue eyes darted across the ring, looking for something, anything, out of place, and saw nothing.

Sule of Kana was a no-show.

"WILL SULE OF KANA PLEASE REPORT TO THE RING!"

Nothing.

I was getting suspicious. This was strange. This girl had two more battles before she was done, so why would she just give up now? Surely there was someone on the prizes bench that she wanted. Something was going on here.

"UNLESS SULE OF KANA REPORTS TO THE RING IN THE NEXT 60 SECONDS, BULMA BRIEFS WILL BE COUNTED WINNER BY FORFEIT!"

Well, cool. Whatever. If I didn't have to kill anybody, I wasn't complaining.

"COUNTDOWN AT 45 SECONDS!...30!...2 -"

I was even more confused now. The announcer never cuts himself off. I listened carefully, and thought I heard whispers.

**What do you think is going on? **I asked, only to Vegeta.

I felt him frowning deeply. _I don't know. I hear whispering through the microphone, but I've got no clue what they're saying. _

I pressed my lips together. Something about this situation was wrong, and it was making my hair stand on end.

"ATTENTION!" the announcer said suddenly. "SULE OF KANA HAS BEEN REPORTED DEAD IN THE HALLS OUTSIDE THE LOCKER ROOM! IT IS AGAINST GAME RULES TO KILL CONTESTANTS, BUT THE PUNISHMENT WILL NOT BE SEVERE IF THE PERPETRATOR COMES FORWARD NOW!"

I gaped. What? Sule was dead? But…how? _Who_?

I flinched as I heard a Prize cry out in horror, and it struck me painfully then that Orca and I were not the only people fighting for the ones we loved. I felt horribly bad for Sule. She had not died a warriors death.

Then it hit me. **Vegeta, that presence I felt, the one that disappeared…**

_Sule,_ Vegeta nodded. His jaw was set, eyes narrowed dangerously. _I knew it. I knew someone had killed a contestant. There would have been no other people that close to you. This is bad. _

"BECAUSE SULE OF KANA CANNOT BE PRESENT FOR THIS MATCH, THE WINNER BY DEFAULT IS MISS BULMA BRIEFS!"

I was still speechless (yeah, I know, harhar). I stood shock still, listening to the stunned, awkward clapping of the crowd. Nobody cheered this time. Everyone was either scared or dazed. If a person could kill a 7th Win Contestant, they'd be able to kill low levels like the audience viewers easily. Politicians and rich folks from planets Frieza had allied with instead of purging wouldn't stand a chance. They weren't warriors. And even if they were, what if there was more than one person? What if an Elite or a Soldier was in on it too?

_Get off the stage, Onna. _

I blinked, then turned abruptly and disappeared into the locker room. As I did so, I saw Shiver rising from her seat, and I mentally felt her scowling. I went to meet her in the hall, but as I was walking, something stopped me cold.

I saw a cleaning crew gathered in a hall to my left. No one was really in these halls during the Games, that much I knew. I saw them scrubbing, on the floor and on the walls and even two on the ceilings.

The blood was not coming off.

I fought back the bile rising in my throat as I stared at what I knew to be Sule's life essence. No doubt she had put up a fight, but whoever it was had either the element of surprise or was simply much stronger. I felt so terrible for her. I knew that she could have died against me as it was, but that would have been an honorable fight for someone we cared about. This…this was coldblooded murder.

"This isn't good," Shiver said, suddenly walking up to me. I was surprised that I hadn't heard her loud footsteps.

**No, **I agreed. **No, it isn't.**

* * *

><p>It was hours before I saw her enter the arena again. No other Contenders had disappeared since Sule. I had stopped watching the matches, trying to go over in my head if I had seen anything suspicious. I couldn't think of anyone I had seen in the Observer's Deck, or in the ring. Bulma had either been meditating or talking to me, so she didn't know either.<p>

I didn't like this. My discomfort only intensified when I heard, "WINNER BY DEFAULT IS BULMA BRIEFS."

Her opponent, a man name Mik, was dead.

**What are the odds that the only two people who've been killed were my opponents? **

I scowled. _Not very large. _

**Someone is doing this on purpose. Someone fast. **

_Someone clever. _

**I saw where Sule was killed. The blood was everywhere, like someone had either painted it on or made a very big splash. I asked Shiver about it, and the camera's caught absolutely nothing except Sule being torn to pieces by an unseen force. **

_Interesting, _I mused.

**What? You think you know who did it? **

_I have a hunch, _I said.

* * *

><p>"AE'WO CANNOT BE PRESENT TODAY IN THE RING. BULMA BRIEFS WINS BY DEFAULT!"<p>

This one scared me the most. I knew that it was the name of the Brench-jin that had been staring at Vegeta with her triplet sisters. I knew that Ae'wo had been very strong, and was most likely expected to win if Cuzodae or I did not. I saw them carrying her body away in pieces. Not one limb, appendage, or flesh were left together. Every single one of her fingers and toes had been horribly severed, her arms and legs cut from her torso, her head separate from her shoulders. I saw when they picked it up, saw how her eyes where pure white now, instead of that deep red. I shivered and nearly threw up. That wasn't the worst part though.

The killer had cut off Ae'wo's tongue. It was if the murderer was trying to even further silence her. As if he or she had hated the very sound of Ae'wo's voice. I checked for her sisters, just to see, and I felt the pain of their grieving. For a moment, I actually felt sorry for them.

The crowd was getting anxious, as was I. Why couldn't they figure out who was doing this? Why were only _my_ opponents being killed? How could this mystery person possibly know who was going to fight me, and why were they doing this? If I didn't have to beat them myself, I was not going to cry about it. The only thing that worried me was the fact that this person might have an alternate motive. Maybe they were helping me, or maybe they were just leading up to my own demise.

**Anything, Shiver? **I sent, rubbing my temples as I entered the locker room unscathed for the 3rd time today.

_No. Dad and the boys are getting pissed. Sule was Cooler's soldier, and the other two were Frieza's. Apparently they were excellent fighters for Weaponist. _

**So this killer must be excellent to be able to defeat them. **

_That's what I'm afraid of. _

**Vegeta thinks he knows who it is, but he won't tell me until he's sure. **

I felt a flare of anger from the Ice-jin princess. _He needs to tell us now if he knows something. _

**It's only a hunch based on fighting techniques he's seen. **

_Isn't there anyone you suspect? _

I snorted. **Pfft. I suspect everyone here. We're all good enough to take them out, or we wouldn't have made it this far. **

_Gee, Bulma, that's real helpful. _

**Yeah, sure. Tell me if you find anything. **

_Don't turn your back on anyone. _

**I know. **

This was getting a bit too dangerous for my liking. I stayed around the rest of the Contenders, since I doubted this mystery killer would kill in front of everyone. I didn't like this at all, and Vegeta liked it less. Every so often I feel spikes of frustration in his brainwaves, and I keep thinking I hear someone growling behind me. There isn't ever anyone there, and there aren't any presences there either.

Halftime came quickly for once. I stood in front of Vegeta like a guard, as usual. Remembering Cuzodae's words, I was extra attentive today. I noticed every time someone glanced our way, felt it every time someone considered his worth. I snarled at whoever it was, and normally people didn't look twice. They did think about it though, and I found (with extreme relief) that I wasn't mean enough to attack their minds.

I exhaled sharply as Vegeta's tail squeezed my waist firmly. "Don't scowl so much, Little One. It'll become permanent," he teased.

**You would know, wouldn't you?** I chuckled.

His grin fell to a scowl, and he knew he'd walked right into that one.

**So are you going to tell me who you think it is? **He knew who I meant.

"No."

I frowned and turned to glare at him. **Why not? **

"Because I don't want you to be nervous."

**You think whoever it is will be my next opponent. **

He nodded, and would say nothing more on the matter.

* * *

><p>From the Contenders Bench, I watched the rest of the battles. I saw the numbers dwindling to nothing, until there were only two of each bracket left. There was a wolf-like creature called Kairn from the Elite division who would square off against Maldonn, a lizard like creature that reminded me of mutants from Thundercats. In the Warrior's group, Cineé's brother Orca against a male named Diadem, a fighter who had the appearance of a typical vampire (not the sparkly kind). In the Soldier's group, two females named Czarni, a blue skinned, purple haired being with a flat, almost nonexistent nose, and Maquessa, a woman with light pink skin and white hair would fight for the Champion title.<p>

Guess who was left in the Weaponries Division?

Me and Cuzodae.

I had just watched her effortlessly slaughter her last opponent, a bird-like female with short, spikey indigo colored hair. I'm still shivering from the poor thing's piercing scream. Cuzodae likes to play with her food.

_Are you ready for this? _

I looked up and saw Vegeta on the Prizes Bench. He kept his eyes on the ring, pretending not to notice me.

**Yeah, **I said. **I think so. **

_Know so. _

**Yes, Sensei. I'm ready. **

_Good. Now go kick some ass. _

I smiled and secured my gun at my belt. I activated the two watches I had on my wrist (precaution) and headed down to the locker room, where only two of the last Contenders were sitting.

"IN THE CORNER TO MY RIGHT, IN HER FINAL FIGHT, AT 6 FEET, 132 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 4059, THE SHROUD FROM INARUI, CUZODAAAAAAAAAAAAE!"

I took a deep breath. This was it.

"AND IN THE CORNER TO MY LEFT, AT 4'9, 105 POUNDS, AND A POWER LEVEL OF 16, IN HER VERY LAST FIGHT TO THE FINISH BATTLE, OUR ONLY CHIKYUU CONTENDER, MISS BULMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BRIEEEEEEEEEFS!"

I stepped into the arena, confident, focused, and serious. It did not register to me until I met Cuzodae's silver eyes that this was my only opponent of the day who hadn't disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>AGAIN, SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY! I didn't mean to take this long. I want to seriously thank 6teenana1 for getting me going again. I don't know what it was about your review, but it was like you kicked me in the butt and said "Get the hell going!" <strong>

**So here I am :)**

**Little mini mystery going on here. I bet you all already figured out who it was. I was pretty obvious (I think). I bet a lot of you are wondering what the hell went on here, with the mystery killing and the moving of that prisoner...anybody guess who he is yet?**

**Thank you guys for following this story. I think I'm going to slowly start going back and revising it a little. Maybe change some scenes and whatnot. For example, I decided to use italics for mental replies to Bulma instead of 'this'. JSYK. As I said, I'm going to go back and revise. Big time. **

**Anyhow, you guys know the drill. **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	17. Polite Enough to Die

**OMG TOL HAS MORE REVIEWS THAN THIS STORY! THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!**

**Actually, it's perfectly acceptable, but I've decided to start a kind of race between the two stories. TOL is way ahead, as it has less chapters but more reviews. What do you guys think?**

**Just so you know, I'm again tired and this is full of errors. Corrections when I have enough hours of sleep. **

**Song Prompt: Impossible ~ Manafest**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Polite Enough to Die<strong>

I felt myself quivering with anger, and I tightened my grip on my weapon. **You did it, didn't you? **

She grinned at me, sharp teeth gleaming like a vampire's. Her tongue darted out and licked the tip of one, which I noticed was coated with blood.

**It was you. I should have known. **

"Perhaps," is all she said.

My eyes narrowed. **Why did you kill them? Why didn't you just wait to meet them in the ring? **

Cuzodae chuckled. "Silly girl. Did you really think you would survive someone like Ae'wo? Heck, Sule probably would have finished you off." She stopped and examined her nails before continuing. "Thing is, sweetheart, your past wins have been stokes of luck, or maybe even a blessing from your gods. But your previous opponents were either suicidal or ridiculously sloppy. Sule…" Cuzodae licked her lips, "Sule was skilled."

I swallowed.

A sudden wind rushed by me, and I flinched back, nearly stumbling. When I looked again, I noticed Cuzodae holding two _very _important objects. I glanced down at my wrists and gasped; my watches were gone.

Cuzodae gave me a sadistic grin, holding up my defense shields mockingly before she crushed them in her hands. "Thing is, sweetheart…" she said, "I just wanted to kill you myself."

_Don't you dare give her the satisfaction…_

I hissed, disregarding my own warning. She snickered. "And just think," she said, "after having the pleasure of killing you, I get to keep your little Saiyan. Won't that be fun…"

I whipped out my gun and fired, hardly taking time to aim. Even so, there was little chance that she could dodge it. As often as I practiced, my aim was nearly flawless. And yet, I just barely saw her sink to the ground, and a second later, I felt a blade being swiped across my back.

My body jerked with both surprise and pain; my armor had protected my back, but I now had a cut on the back of my left arm. I dove away and rolled to my feet, whirling and firing at where I expected her to be. She moved so quickly that for a second, she seemed to turn into a wisp of smoke before she materialized behind me again. Without turning, as I had no time to, I flipped my gun over my shoulder and fired upside down. Cuzodae gave a sharp cry and leapt away, hissing and clutching her shoulder. She glared at me, lifting her hand and looking at it hatefully. Her fingers were covered in blood; the bullet had gone just an inch below her shoulder, splitting it open. I wrinkled my nose; it had just barely grazed her.

**Well, now we're both bleeding, **I said confidently.

"Don't get cocky, Chikyuu-jin," Cuzodae growled. "I haven't even begun to fight."

I cocked my gun and smiled wickedly. **That's good. Otherwise this fight would be boring.**

She smirked back at me, standing in a rather slinky manner. "You really are a hopeful fool," she said.

She lunged.

* * *

><p>I felt my left eye twitch slightly as Cuzodae mocked her. At some point in the conversation, I hear something like 'your little Saiyan', which only serves to piss me off further.<p>

I glance at Frieza, who is watching them in amusement. It strikes me then that he must have figured out who killed the other fighters, and either enjoyed watching his sister running around like a dead chicken or wanted to see the weakest fighter being pitched against the strongest. Personally, I wouldn't doubt either.

When I turned back, Cuzodae is in midair, phasing in and out of a solid state, and drops of blood fall from her shoulder. I looked at Bulma, and scowled when I saw blood sliding down her left arm. They mocked each other for a few minutes more, each of them with a smug look on their faces. Suddenly, Cuzodae snarled and lunged.

I frowned. A full on frontal assault like that didn't fit her fighting style. Sure enough, when Bulma pointed her gun and fired, Cuzodae disappeared a split second before the bullet could strike her forehead. She appeared again on Bulma's right, but she whirled, drawing her knife and lashing out with it. She narrowly missed Cuzodae's stomach, and the Shadow flew back and skidded to a stop on her heels, fingers trailing the ground. A second later she had taken to the sky again.

The battle went back and forth like that for a long time. It seemed that every time one of them had the other, they'd suddenly reverse roles. It seemed like a constant stalemate.

I wondered for a moment if Cuzodae was playing with her.

* * *

><p>I flinched as her sword dug into my arm and drew blood. Cuzodae laughed at me and held her sword out at arm's length, watching in gleeful fascination as a thick red drop fell from the blade.<p>

"Did you know I was an artist before I joined this army?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. **Do I look like I care? **

"Of course not. Nobody does." Her voice hardened a bit, but she brightened almost immediately. "I joined this army of my own free will, so my art could be appreciated. I had to make a few adjustments to my style, but it was worth it."

My eyes narrowed. **That must be why you're so famous, right? **

She ignored my sarcasm, and her voice rose with excitement. She lifted her bloody fingers from her shoulder and pushed her bangs from her face, staining the silver hairs red. "I used to draw, but now I paint. I paint, and only in red! I'll paint the stage with your blood!"

She lunged at me, aiming for my throat. I leaned backwards just in time to miss it, then slid into a backbend and lifted my feet in the air. As Cuzodae passed me, I spun and kicked her at the base of her neck. She stumbled and hissed, cursing in her native tongue, and whirled, arm extended. The blade grazed my armor, but I felt nothing.

**Eat this, bitch! **I yelled, and fired directly at her chest.

Despite her speed, I'd fired the shot at point blank range. There was no way she could dodge it.

And yet, she did.

I gaped in surprise as Cuzodae leapt away and tumbled ungracefully to the ground, landing with her face buried in the floor of the arena. She laid still for just a moment, and I was so surprised that I could only stand there and stare. Finally, I shook myself and quickly raised my gun, but it was too late.

Cuzodae sat up abruptly and howled. She jumped to her feet and gingerly touched her breastbone, and hissed again. The skin was blackened and red, peeling and burning. A thin plume of smoke sprouted from her skin, and I gagged at the smell. Cuzodae saw my face and started to move.

**Go ahead,** I told her. **Fight at your speed. The thing about fire…it needs oxygen, right? Your flesh is burning. Go on, feed the flames. It'll save me a hell of a lot of trouble. **

"Stupid Chikyuu bitch!" she screeched.

I couldn't believe it. She'd bought my bluff. If she'd moved fast enough, yes, there was a possibility that she could catch fire. But a more likely probability was that she'd be like a heavy breath to a candle; the little embers on her breast would simply go out.

I nearly laughed.

**You're real durable, I'll give you that, **I amended. **Anybody else would have been blasted clean through…without a Ki shield, admittedly, but still. What've you got, diamond skin? Force fields?**

"Not quite," Cuzodae replied. "My flesh has the properties of sand."

I raised my eyebrows. **Interesting. Would you melt if I dumped a bucket of water on you? **

"So clever," she murmured, and she lunged at me.

* * *

><p><em>What would dumping a bucket of water on her do? <em>I wondered.

Cuzodae's next attack was heavy and brutal; Bulma pulled her own sword from her belt and just barely managed to block it before Cuzodae leapt away and came at her from another angle. When that attack was blocked in the same fashion, she began running around the ring in a circle, cutting into Bulma's flesh with her daggers as she flew.

Bulma screamed, and blood spurted from her wounds. At some point, even her hairband fell in pieces along with small pieces of blue, and her hair cascaded down her back. I leaned forward, but the chains around my arms and neck caught me and held me in place. I wished to break them so badly.

Finally, Bulma raised both her guns and held both of her arms out, shaking as the knifes cut deeper. She spun and whirled, firing in all directions, and after a moment, Cuzodae shrieked and fell. She dodged another shot and leapt to her feet, her skin shifting as though she really was made of smoke and dust.

It was clearer now, why she was called a Shroud.

Angry at being hit twice, Cuzodae shook her head like an animal and roared in fury, her silver hair shifting with the movement. She tossed her dagger in the air and caught the blade of it in between her fingers, then threw it at Bulma. I felt a sting of familiarity that wasn't mine, and Bulma ducked, firing. Cuzodae leapt over her shot and fazed behind her, lifting her leg for a kick.

A hiss escaped my lips when the blow connected, and Bulma head snapped forward.

She tumbled, and after stumbling, she finally managed to dig her heels into the ground and stop. She turned just in time to see orange come flying at her, and Cuzodae slammed her knee into her face twice, and once more to send her flying.

Bulma landed heavily, her hands flying to her face. She howled, **You broke my nose, you old hag!**

"Consider it the first of many future pains!" Cuzodae grinned. "I have just begun to paint!" She frowned suddenly, then yelled, "I'm _not _old, you little whore!"

Bulma screeched and retrieved her gun from where she'd dropped it. She fired off 6 shots, and Cuzodae narrowly dodged all of them. Bulma squeezed the trigger again, but nothing happened. She looked irritated, and as Cuzodae flew over her head, she leaned back and popped the clip out of her gun. In the same instant, she slid it into her belt and whipped it out again, now freshly loaded, and cocked it. She kicked out her leg and swung herself around on the floor and fired at Cuzodae's now falling form. The shroud shifted and phased away, reappearing on the other side of the ring.

"Enough playtime," she snarled. "I grow tired of teasing you. It's time to end this."

* * *

><p>I panted, sweat dripping into my eyes. I'd never been so tired in my life.<p>

"On your feet, maggots!"

I growled and staggered to my feet, my legs shaking and threatening to collapse underneath me. Even training with my father had never been this rough, and Dad wasn't exactly known to be merciful when sparring.

Our drill instructor was a total…you know what, I'm not even going to say it. I'm going to be the mature person and just keep on –

"GET A MOVE ON, YA FILTHY PIECE OF TRASH!" he yelled at me.

Screw it. The guy is an asshole. He works us like slaves. At some point in our training, I actually started having nightmares about the freak. We are allowed hardly any bathroom breaks, two food breaks, and limited sleep. Every day we get up at 5:00 in the morning, train till 1:00, eat till 2:00, train again till 11:00, sleep, and start all over again the next morning. During training, we wear only pants…or at least, the men do. The women get sports-bras. I guess they need to have flesh exposed for whipping and whatnot. Keeps me cool, so I don't care. Our pants are a kind of heavy, baggy fiber-like material, completely unlike the spandex uniforms that soldiers of the Cold Empire wear. They make swishing sounds when you move sometimes, which makes it extremely hard to be sneaky around here. I miss my black shorts.

I stood and started running again, catching up to the others in hardly any time. I'm taller than most of them, so they're easy to outrun. As I passed them, I heard murmurs of "filthy Saiyan" "monkey" "freak" "savage".

I gritted my teeth and ran faster.

Hours later, the towel around my neck was soaked with sweat. I grabbed a water bottle and chugged it, tossing it into the trash when I was finished.

"Two points," I muttered to myself.

The locker room is not the nicest place to be after training. The smells in here are ridiculously strong, and that's from the perspective of someone with a weak sense of smell. For me, it's absolutely brutal. I can't stand the scent of sweaty flesh. It makes me gag.

Not that I smell much better.

I tossed my sweat covered towel in the dirty basket and grabbed a fresh one, wiping my face with it. I pushed fallen hairs back into place and started to chug another water bottle. After a moment, I paused, because I sensed someone near me.

I looked back and saw a female standing a bit idly at her locker, watching me. She startled and looked away upon my catching her, and hid her face behind the door. My tail uncurled from my waist and waved with amusement, and I started to drink again, though I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

She was small and slender, perhaps only to my chest in height. Her skin was dark, far darker than my own, like that of fine, rich soil, and that's why it surprised me that her eyes were such an icy blue. Around those eyes, there were splashes of sky blue, like paint. For a moment, I thought it was makeup, but I realized that if this were the case, then she'd have surely sweated it off. Her eyelids were painted the same color, as I saw when she blinked, and when the blue reached the bone of her brow, it turned into thin slivers that branched out until it reached the outer corner of her eyes. Even her eyelashes and eyebrows were blue, though her brows a much darker shade than anything else, and there was hardly any color underneath her eyes at all. Her hair was done up in long, straight pigtails, and was black except for her thick bangs that framed her face, and just barely went past her shoulders. I doubted that her hair was naturally black, as those bangs were such a sharp color of pale blue. I glanced around for any kind of identifying feature, because I didn't know those strange eyes from any particular planet, but the only clues I got were pointed ears and long nails that were…guess what? Blue.

What a blue creature.

She dressed quickly, and glanced at me once, then turned away just as quickly. Gathering her things, she started to shut her locker, but paused, as if thinking. She bit her lip, which was slightly pink (that, I was certain, was freshly applied) and after a moment, she looked up like she had made an important decision that required extreme confidence. Slamming the door with more force than necessary, she turned sharply and settled her gaze on me.

I blinked, surprised at her sudden change in demeanor. As if reading my mind, she faltered under my gaze, but continued walking.

Pretending to no longer notice her, I turned away and sipped my water again. She stood at my back for a minute, then softly cleared her throat. I glanced lazily back at her, and waited for her to speak.

"Hello," she said, a bit shyly. Her voice sounded strange; it had a sort of echo, as though it was a mixture of a computer and a person.

"Hello," I replied. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Quite nice," she said, not catching my dry attempt at humor. She looked at my wild hair, then my tail, which thumped against the bench, and said, "May I sit?"

I shrugged and curled my tail back around my waist, making room for her. "Sure."

She sat and fell silent again, fidgeting. I finished my water bottle and tossed it in the trash – two more points for me – and opened up my own locker. I fished out a muscle shirt and started to slip it over my head, and just as the material passed my face, the girl took the opportunity to speak.

"I was thinking maybe that we could be teammates."

I pulled my hair out of the back of my shirt and stared at her. "We get to pick?" I asked, surprised.

She looked sheepish. "Well…no, not technically…"

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Because I…well, I can pull some strings."

I snorted. "What, having an affair with the guy who assigns the teams?"

She blushed (a blue blush, which made me think that perhaps her blood was blue also) and said, "No, I am not, not that it's any of your business anyhow. I could make an adjustment to the computers."

"Sneaky little female, aren't you?" I said, hanging a new shirt up for tomorrow.

She cleared her throat again. "I can talk to machines...and they listen to me. It wouldn't be hard."

"Not even with that collar on your neck?"

She reached up and touched it gently, and the collar beeped. "I wear it as to not be caught, and to enhance my training."

A good idea, I realized. The more you train while you're weakened, the stronger you'll be afterwards. "You realize though, that you could just escape."

She frowns at me. "Did they not tell you that you have a tracking chip in your shoulder?"

I scowled, suddenly understanding why we'd all been given shots upon our coming here. It wasn't for any type of disease, apparently.

"I could technically remove it, but I'm afraid they will notice," she said. "I need to wait until they've sent us off world."

I frowned. "Any idea where we're going?" I asked.

"They plan to form us into elites, and gather us into small teams to do Frieza's personal bidding," she answered. "It will be wherever he chooses to send us."

"Hn."

She waits for me to say something more, but when I don't, she asked again, "Would you like to be teammates?"

I turned to her and eyed her suspiciously. "Why me? Aren't you afraid you'll be contaminated?"

She looked confused. "Contaminated?"

"Haven't you heard?" I sneered. "The filthy Saiyan has cooties."

She gave a sharp laugh that sounded as though it ran on a strange, high wavelength. "How silly. A Saiyan has no more germs than any other person."

"Glad you think so," I said dryly.

She sobered. "It's only that…well, to be blunt, I fear that most males in here are rapists."

I almost laughed. "Do you, now? Sorry, sweetheart. Most people here are more pleased with slitting throats."

"Perhaps."

"And, why am I different?"

"You don't much talk to females," she observed.

"I don't much talk to anybody," I pointed out.

"Perhaps," she said again, "but your wavelength is not particularly malicious towards females. It's rather indifferent, I think."

"My wavelength," I repeated.

"I can read it. Everyone's body emits some kind of wavelength."

"Uh huh."

"It's true!" she insisted, standing.

I held my hands up in surrender. "Alright, whatever."

"So?" she prompted.

"So, what?" I asked.

"Will you be my teammate?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't want a teammate. You want protection."

"That's what a teammate gives, isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes.

"So, will you?"

I grunted. "I'm not very likeable. Why not anybody else here? I can't be the only ones with pretty "wavelengths", or whatever you call it."

She smiled silently. "Perhaps it was just your charming good looks," she teased.

I looked up sharply, dismayed at my blushing. She chuckled.

"I don't even know who you are," I muttered.

"I'm Jigūshei Pixel, from Giygga." she answered, though I hadn't actually asked, and she reached out to shake my hand.

I shook it hesitantly, then firmly. Her tiny hand was completely swallowed in mine, and I was surprised that she hadn't somehow broken her skinny wrists already. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

><p>Cuzodae flew over her head and swung out her leg. Bulma ducked and rolled, drawing a knife from her belt and throwing it. Cuzodae dodged, and the knife cut silver slivers from her hair. She lunged again, weaving in and out of Bulma's shots, and finally got close enough to kick the gun from her hands. Bulma's mouth fell open, and she fumbled for her machine gun, but it was too late. Cuzodae punched her hard in the stomach, and Bulma doubled over, her eyes wide and blood spurting from her lips. Cuzodae delivered another punch, and she swore she felt ribs cracking. After yet a third punch, Cuzodae's knee slammed into the side of her head, and Bulma went flying.<p>

She skidded to a stop, face down on the floor, groaning. Cuzodae's purposeful footsteps echoed vaguely in her ears, and she shrieked as she was suddenly picked up by her hair. Her opponent grinned and took a dagger from her belt.

The blade sank into Bulma's shoulder, and she screamed. Physically, her mouth was only open, but the mental screams she gave was enough to make a person faint, and for some of the weaker audience, it did. Cuzodae dragged the dagger down to Bulma's elbow, slitting her arm open, and heavy tears streamed down the young girl's face. With her free, uninjured arm, she reached into her own belt and whipped out her dagger. She could not reached Cuzodae, so instead, she swiftly reached up and swiped horizontally.

Her hair, pulled taunt before, cut easily, and more than a foot of it came free in Cuzodae's hand. Bulma rolled away, yanking the blade out of her arms as she did so, and when she sat up, her blue hair just barely fell to her shoulders, choppy and now looking wavier without its own weight to straighten it out.

She hissed in pain and cradled her arm. **I'll get you for that,** she hissed.

"Doubt it," Cuzodae grinned, suddenly in front of her. The blow came so fast that Bulma didn't even see it.

Her arm shattered.

She screamed and sank to her knees, panicking when she saw white bone prodding from her torn skin. Cuzodae kicked her in the stomach, and when she sprawled on the ground, she Shroud's foot hovered over her ankle.

"The first of many pains," she whispered excitedly.

Bulma lifted her head weakly and noticed that she'd landed near her gun.

Cuzodae's foot had just begun to crush her ankle when she bolted upright and fired, shooting her opponent in the leg. At that range, there was no possible way Cuzodae could dodge or shift her skin around it; it tore clean through her thigh and out the other side, giving a loud _ping!_ as it hit the wall.

Cuzodae howled.

Her ankle throbbing, along with her arm and her ribs, Bulma staggered to her feet and flew a good distance away. **I refuse to die, **she declared, panting. **I won't. **

"I say you will!" Cuzodae screamed.

Though both of them were limping, both of them ran. Flying at each other, daggers bared and ready to swing, the two gave shrieking battle cries. Vegeta watched in horror as their blades extended, praying that Bulma could dodge at the last second.

They met in the middle.

Cuzodae's silver eyes burned with fury, but they widened just a bit. Bulma's blue brows furrowed, and her eyes narrowed hatefully. With a hard yank, she pulled her dagger from Cuzodae's heart.

The Shroud's body jerked, blood gushing from her chest, her pupils shrinking to tiny iron dots. Her lips fell open, and blood spurted from them and landed on Bulma's cheek. Her knees collapsed, and she fell in a heap of limbs.

Bulma set her feet back on the ground – she'd been floating a few inches in the air. Her body shook, and she stumbled back. The lights gleamed on her, and that's when the silent crowd noticed the dagger in her ribs, a few inches below her heart.

Two fat tears mixed with the stream of blood from her temple. Her bottom lip wavered, and her blue eyes rolled back up into her head. She fell backwards and landed sprawled on the ground, her now short hair splayed out and stained red.

It was silent, and suddenly, Vegeta gave a weak, strangled cry.

Frieza glanced down from the balcony and noted that the Saiyan Prince was crying.

"Send a bot in," the tyrant heard his father order.

A robot that had both wheels and legs crawled up the stage. It slipped through the barrier, metal arm-like appendages sprouting from the sides around it's table-like head. One of the metal arms poked Cuzodae, then Bulma. After a moment, it scooped them both up and carried them off the stage.

No one said a word, but a young man's wail of loss rang out in the arena.

* * *

><p><strong>Shorter than most, I think. I'm fairly certain this sucked. Tell me if it did, ya? This battle scene nearly killed me T.T<strong>

**DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD.**

**So, who here knows their history?**

**If you do, then you'd catch that Cuzodae has a pun off of Hitler. Before he became a dictator, Hitler was going to be an artist. Seriously tho….wtf happened?**

**Now, Bulma's clearly gotten a haircut. If you want to see it, then Google "shoulder length choppy layered hairstyles". The hairstyle I tried to describe will be the first lady (a brunette) in the top row.**

**Review!**

**~KimiruMai**


	18. Mine For The Taking

**Okay, so I've decided to change the format. From now on, all thoughts will be in italics, including Bulma's "speech". I'm going to assume that you're all intelligent enough to tell when she's talking to someone and when she's muttering to herself. **

**Anyhow, this chapter just about killed me. Inspiration wouldn't come all day but OH HO as soon as bedtime hits, BAM! Instant inspiration. So yes, I am tired. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I am not Japanese. **

**Song Prompt: Sleeping to Dream ~ Jason Mraz**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Mine For The Taking<strong>

When the crowd finally started murmuring, he did not appreciate it.

The whispers consisted of people wondering who had won the bets cast between the two female finalists, some of which quickly escalated into fights, but not once did he hear anyone ask if the poor girls were alright, or if either of them were going to survive.

He wanted to murder them all.

Not kill. Murder. In his opinion, those two words were slightly different. Kill meant to take away a person's life quickly and insignificantly as possible. It meant that it would be a fleeting event in the news, like a person was killed in an accident. Murder meant to revel in the feel of their flesh tearing in his hands, the taste of blood in his mouth, and the shark _crack! _of bones in his ears. Murder was to kill someone on purpose and to love it, to laugh whilst the crime was being committed, and to grin at the corpse like it was a masterpiece when he was finished. Murder was creating genocide.

He wanted to murder them _all_.

"SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTHS!" he screamed. The Prizes near him winced at the volume, which rose when no one heeded his command. "SHUT THE HELL UP!"

"Vegeta, be calm –" Cineé started to murmur.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME TO BE CALM!" he roared. His head snapped in the direction of the Colds, his glare deadly and seething. "I SWEAR TO THE KAIS, IF SHE'S DEAD, I WILL PAINT THIS SHIP WITH BLOOD, YOU HEAR ME FRIEZA?"

The Ice-jinn looked down at him coldly, a deep frown etched in his pale features.

"Chikyuu girl will be fine," Cineé tried to reassure him.

He shook his head wildly, on the verge of panic. "I can't feel her," he whispered, eyes wide. "I can't feel her! She's either unconscious, in a coma, or…" he choked as he trailed off, sinking to his knees. "She can't be…Oh, God, this is my fault."

"It's not," Cineé insisted, dropping to her knees beside him and nudging his shoulder with her own. Had her hands been free, Cineé surely would have hugged him. "Chikyuu girl chose this. She will survive."

He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He could not sense her…he'd barely been able to sense her Ki outside of battle in the first place, what with it being so small and all these people here, but now he could not feel her mind, and that terrified him.

What would he do if she died?

* * *

><p>I have seen this much blood before, easily, but never on someone I cared for. She has such a tiny little body, I didn't even know she <em>had<em> this much blood.

I smoothed back her now cropped hair as the bot rolled her down the hallway at its quickest speed, and the blood in her hair stained my white fingers. It looked thick and deeply red against my skin, but against my black nails it looked dull and thin, as if lifeless.

She'd better not be lifeless.

The nurses in the infirmary were expecting her and Cuzodae, who was carried on the other shelf of the bot, but they were in no way expecting me. Upon my arrival, they jumped to attention and bowed deeply. "Princess Shiver," the main doctor started.

"Shut the fuck up and fix her!" I commanded, pointing to Bulma.

He blinked, surprised, then moved to check her vitals. "Set the tanks," he called. "She might still make it."

"What do you mean, might?!" I hissed.

He flinched. "She is very weak, Princess. There have been many cases that a tank cannot heal…such a wound, for instance, might call for her to be in there for years, if not decades. If that's the case…she cannot stay inside for that long, Princess."

I glared at him. "Then you'd best do you damnedest to make sure that doesn't happen," I snarled.

He paled, and began to work with slightly shaking hands.

I glared at a nearby nurse. "You!" I barked. "Come here."

She trembled, but came closer as I'd commanded. "Yes, m'Lady?"

"See if this one is still alive," I ordered, pointing a stabbing finger at Cuzodae's pale form.

The nurse checked her vitals, carefully, then said, "She is dead, Lady."

I heaved a sigh of relief as I looked down at Bulma's tattered form, knowing that if Cuzodae had been alive, I'd have slit her throat right there.

* * *

><p>My tail lashed angrily, uncontrolled, and the fur smacked the back of my legs a few times before I finally opted to curl it around my waist. I had never felt so utterly hopeless in my life.<p>

She had to be alive. She _had _to. What would I have to live for otherwise? I needed her. I looked back at our past and I wished I had cuddled with her more, like she wanted. I should have held her when I could. I should have made her stay out of these stupid Games in the first place.

"She will be okay, yes?" Cineé said confidently. "Vegeta will see. Cineé never doubts woman's instincts."

If I was meaner, I'd tell her exactly where she could shove her "woman's instincts" but Bulma has softened me too much. I grit my teeth at this; I should have ignored her from the start. I would not be experiencing this…this _feeling_ if it wasn't for her. I should have let her wallow in her depression and let her die, so I wouldn't have to wish it was me later.

I shouldn't feel this! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, the most powerful race, the finest race, and yet some weak little female has wormed her way into my soul like this! What have I allowed to happen to myself? I almost wish I could go back in time and warn myself to just ignore her.

But even if I could, I know I wouldn't, because goddammit, I need her. My sanity is cracking as it is, and without her I would be an empty shell of myself. I would be dead, probably. This emotional weakness…if this was what it took to care about her, then so be it.

Because, damn it all, she was _mine_. _My_ bakarra. No one had the right to take her from me, especially when she didn't deserve to die. If someone was going to die then for God's sake it should be me for letting this happen to her.

If Bulma survived, she would save me, and she would not regret it, no matter how much I fussed over her. If Cuzodae survived, she would chose me, and the moment that happened, I would slit her throat and tear out her heart, consequences be damned.

If they both survived, they would go back into the arena.

It was a practice that had been used many a time before; I had seen soldiers go down at the same time, only to come back out a few hours later to duel again. And of course, sometimes the tank would not have time to fully heal and rest one of them, so the battle would often be one-sided. I knew that if both of them came out again, Bulma would lose. She was only a human; she could not recover in the short amount of time that Cuzodae most likely could.

I decided I would kill myself if I had to watch her die twice.

* * *

><p>I felt people prodding and poking at my skin. It stung, and if I had the strength to move I would have batted them away, or at least cried out. I felt cold hands on my forehead – Shiver, I reckoned – and warmer ones near my wounds. I barely had the strength to flinch.<p>

Finally, someone stripped me off my armor, picked me up, and placed me in a tank. Healing liquid filled the container like a basin, cooling my burning flesh, and if I was over half conscious, I would sigh in relief. The medicine was a fast worker; I felt a dull sting in my skin as I began to heal.

I wondered briefly if it would be enough.

I drifted in and out of partial consciousness, not really sure if any of this was still real. I felt myself growing weary, and the more I fought to stay awake, the more tired I became. I was in extreme agony, the sensation of which seemed to be dulling, and I thought that maybe I wasn't going to make it.

Abruptly, a thought occurred to me. Vegeta. How badly would he suffer because of my failure? How harshly would he be treated? I knew that even with his power level, the collar reduced him to being barely as strong as a few grown human men. And if he broke down again…if he slipped back into insanity…no one knew the method for getting him out of that. They would surely kill him. And even if he didn't, he would still be a slave. They would treat him as though he was worthless, and not like a prince.

All because I wasn't strong enough, or fast enough.

I was too weak to seek out Cuzodae's energy to see if she still lived. I could barely sense Shiver in the room. I was too exhausted to try to contact Vegeta…my brain was on the verge of a severe and possibly permanent lockdown.

Another thought hit me like a slap in the face; what if he could still feel me? What if I was unknowingly sharing this pain with him? Illusionary though it may be on his end of the stick, this still hurt like hell. I did not want to share that with him, or force that on him.

I didn't want him to feel me die, no matter how much he would rather be by my side.

I put up a mental block, and then my consciousness left me.

* * *

><p>Jigūshei thinks that she can hack into the computers easily enough to even pair us in training exercises. I told her that was too conspicuous. They would guess what she was up to, surely. She sighed, clearly disappointed, but she heeded my advice.<p>

I can't wait to get out of this damned place. I didn't think the people Frieza were currently engaging in war with were that strong, and I'd had enough training. I wanted to fight someone for real. I wanted to feel blood on my hands again. I want to go to war.

Jigūshei called me a battle hungry ape. I told her to stop analyzing what she didn't understand. She's such a techie.

A really pretty techie, but a techie nonetheless.

She and her blueness seem to catch my eye more every day. Her blue bangs seemed electrically colored against her dark skin, almost as much as her eyes did. She was for the most part extremely innocent, but occasionally she would get a look in her eyes that clearly stated her longing for blood, or intimacy, and it was so strong in her that it reminded me of a Saiyan.

When she's angry, her veins turn sharp blue, like pixels are underneath her skin. I asked her once if she was partially machine, to which she replied that she was. I wanted to know how much of her was Giygga-jin, and how much was mechanical, but she only looked at me passively and said she didn't know, because there is no such thing as a Giygaa without mechanical parts, nor is there any Giygga-jin who has the same mechanical makeup as another.

I've learned that if she so wishes, she can faze through walls by separating her molecules by a process not unlike dialysis. She would take apart her megabytes and shift them through materials. I told her she was more like a computer file than a person. She laughed at me.

Still, having a companion made training slightly more bearable. She wasn't as strong as I was, so we rarely sparred, but we did get a chance to watch each other fight occasionally. I sometimes pointed out some flaws in her fighting tactics, and she would only mess up a few more times before she finally fixed whatever it was. We started eating together, and during what few short breaks we were allowed, she would tell me stories about her homeland, and I would tell her about mine.

Once, before lights out, she sat down beside me and started braiding my hair. I let her for a moment, until I remembered that braids weren't manly, and I smacked her hands away with my tail.

* * *

><p>I did not expect my fun to be ended so quickly. My previous plan would have no mirth in it without that girl. And besides that, I had waited for her, like a patient lord, and yet now she was dying, like the worthless insect she was.<p>

What a waste.

I grow tired of these Games. I have seen these soldiers fight before, and I must admit, it is no longer impressive. The little people only impress me anymore, really. It's so amusing to watch them fight, as if it will save them from people like me.

"Some fight, eh Frieza?" Cooler grinned at me. "I say, you truly have some feisty ones in your harem."

This was more of an insult towards my ability to control my slaves than it was a compliment on my tastes. I sneered at him and said, "Yes, well. I am not one to have uninteresting company. It dulls the intelligence, you know."

He scowled at me and opened his mouth to say something sharp back, but Father shushed us, and so I got the last word.

I glanced down at the monkey prince, who was clearly in distress. I haven't seen him so worked up about something in ages. It's delightful. Still, the delight will be short lived, unless that girl survives.

I propped my chin up on my hand and scowled fiercely. How disappointing, to have the height of my amusement completely dependent on a foolish Chikyuujin that shouldn't have survived in the first place.

What a bother.

* * *

><p>I opened my eyes. They burned immediately.<p>

_Aww, fuck! _I cursed to myself, snapping my eyes shut. _Jeez, that hurt. _

"Bulma?" a muffled voice called. "Are you awake?"

Shiver! _I'm awake. _

"Thank God," she sighed. "You got beat up pretty badly."

I frowned. _Did I win?_

I felt her grin. "Yes, you killed Cuzodae. You won the Games."

I heaved a sigh of relief. _That's good. I didn't think I was going to make it._

"I don't think anybody else did, either," Shiver admitted. "You were injured more than she was by a long shot. You lost a lot of blood and have a ton of broken bones. If you hadn't nailed her in the heart…"

I pressed my lips together and exhaled heavily, leaning back against the wall of the tank. _I'd have died, I know._I paused, then said, _I thought she'd stabbed me._

"She did," Shiver bristled at the memory. "Just below the heart. Your lung was slightly punctured, but for the most part, she missed the vital organs. You were lucky."

I grinned behind my oxygen mask, and if I could open my eyes I would wink at her. _Not lucky. Smart. _

"Oh?" Shiver blinked. "How so?"

My grin deepened. _I flew. If I hadn't, she'd have got me for sure. Good thing I'm short. _

Shiver looked pleased. "That was quick thinking," she commended me. "You're right…if you'd been taller, she'd have hit one of your organs regardless of flight. Be glad for your youth."

I nodded. Suddenly, I bolted upright, my eyes popping open. They stung again, but that was currently not my main concern. _Shiv, what time is it?_I demanded.

"It's almost midnight," she answered. "The last battle of the Games should be finishing up."

_I have to get out! _I cried. _If I'm not their when they pick the prizes, someone will take Vegeta!_

"Bulma, you can't!" Shiver snapped. "You're barely over half healed. Do you want to die?"

_Crank up the machine! _I screeched. _Make it heal me faster!_

"That could kill you! You have to have it keep it at a specific setting!"

_I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! I didn't go through all that shit to lose him! _

She bit her lip, looking unsure, then sighed. "Alright. Fine. I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing."

I nodded eagerly, and she started turning the controls. The medicine around me started to feel like it was growing hot, boiling hot, and it stung like fire. I hissed as it forcibly healed me, closing my wounds and mending my bones.

I felt like I was being cooked alive.

* * *

><p>The last battle was over, and I still felt nothing from her. No one had announced a winner for the Weaponries division…if they were both dead, there would be no winner.<p>

What if she was dead?

I felt myself starting to hyperventilate. Cineé nudged me, whispering that it was going to be alright, and she could feel it in her gut that it would be fine and I just wanted her to _shut the fuck up_ –

"ALL WINNERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRIZE'S BENCH TO PICK YOUR REWARDS!"

_Shit._

"Orca has won," Cineé said happily, spotting her brother. "Chikyuu girl has won too, Cineé is sure."

I was quiet.

She looked at me and sighs. "Vegeta would die without her, no?"

I flinched. "I told her not to enter. I told her…"

"She is strong, like Saiyan," Cineé said. "She will survive."

I shook my head. "It's been hours, and I still can't sense her mind."

"Perhaps Chikyuu girl sleeps."

I sighed. "I hope so."

But she still did not come out. For a moment, I could swear I felt my heart bleeding.

This worry was unlike anything I had felt. When I found out about my planet, I didn't need to worry. I only needed to grieve. There was no reason to worry about something that could not be undone. But this was different; I had everything to worry about. I could _lose her. _There was a distinct possibility that I would never see her again.

It was driving me insane.

* * *

><p>The winners, three out of four, lined up parallel to the Prizes Bench, each of them ready to claim who they wished. Orca came up quickly and took his sister from Vegeta's side, waiting patiently as a guard unlocked her cuffs from the others. She gave Vegeta another beaming smile before she was led off.<p>

He just nodded at her.

A large ogre of a man covered in scales stopped in front of him, much to his dismay, speaking into a scouter. "You sure, sweetheart? I've heard this one's unstable."

From the scouter, he heard a girlish reply. "Yes, Papa, I like that one. Please?"

The man sighed.

Okay, seriously? You enter a life risking tournament to get a slave for your daughter? Was it that difficult to just go out and buy one? Vegeta wrinkled his nose in disdain.

"Very well," the man said into his scouter. Shaking his head at his daughter's finickiness, he reached for the chain around Vegeta's neck.

The loud sound of a gun went off, whizzing by the man's ear. He cried out and stepped back, and Vegeta felt a small body slam into his chest. He grunted and looked down, seeing blue hair.

"Bulma!" he yelled.

She had run out not completely healed, and had just thrown on her torn armor, not patient enough for more to be fitted for her. The suit was littered with tears, and the right arm was completely gone, as was the bottom half of her left leg, as revealed by her torn boot.

Bulma didn't reply, to his outburst but pulled away and showed the chain in her hands to the crowd. For a minute, everyone fell silent. From the Observer's Deck, Frieza looked incredibly amused. Shiver appeared beside him, looking slightly worried, but also relieved. Finally, part of the crowd began to cheer, and the rest of them groaned. The bets had been settled; the Chikyuu girl had won.

"Hey, that's mine!" the scaled man roared.

Bulma turned her sharp blue gaze on him. Vegeta heard nothing, but she said, _Really? Because I do believe I got to him first. _

"You shot at me!" he snapped.

_Poor big baby,_she sneered, _I hope you aren't bleeding. You're not bleeding, are you? No? So then, given my record for calculated shots, how do you know I really shot at _you_? _

He looked speechless, then snarled, "You missed on purpose! You never really wanted to shoot me!"

Her gaze narrowed. _Oh no, trust me, I really would like to shoot your brains out. Don't tempt me. _

The man hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am? I won the Elite Division!"

_Good for you. I won the Weaponries Division. We should get together sometime and compare notes. _

This time, she rendered the man so speechless that he only sneered and stalked off, barking into his scouter as he went.

A guard came and unlocked Vegeta's handcuffs from the chains that bound him to the other slaves. He handed Bulma the remote to his collar, swiftly explaining the controls to her. She held up her hand and demanded that he showed her how to take the collar off. Paling, he pointed to a button, and she smiling politely at him before she snatched the remote, and the keys to the room she would be staying in during the six months, and the keys to the cuffs around his wrist.

Bulma looked at Vegeta, and he blinked, realizing she was talking to him. Why couldn't he hear her? It was like something was blocking them.

She took note of his blank face, and she remembered that she had blocked him to prevent her thoughts from traveling to him while she was in pain. She lifted the block from her mind, and their emotions clashed; his worry and panic collided with her pain and fear.

And then there was relief.

"How…" he whispered, staring at her. "How are you alive?"

She flashed a small smile. _Let's just say I'm one helluva human and leave it at that. _She tugged on the chain around his neck. _Come on, fuzz butt._

He smiled at her and started walking. Behind her, he noticed that she was still limping, and her shoulders were hunched with obvious discomfort.

Vegeta looked back at the arena one more time, and noticed that a lot of the crowd was still watching them leave. Frieza looked down at him with a suspiciously amused glint in his eyes. Vegeta glared at him, held his head high, and followed Bulma out of the arena with pride.

Once they were out of the arena and heading down the hall, Vegeta grasped Bulma's hand and pulled her to a stop. "You won –" he started.

She pulled him into a walk again. _Not here. _

He followed her, occasionally telling her that she was going the wrong way, but the room that the key went to was a long, tedious walk from the arena, and the silence was bothering him.

Finally, they reached their room. Bulma slid the keycard in, and it opened with a little beep. Stepping inside and dragging the Saiyan Prince behind her, she swiftly unlocked his cuffs, removed his collar, and cast them into a corner of the room. He rubbed his wrists as warm Ki flooded over the suite, at which she smiled, then turned to gape at their surroundings.

It was a lot nicer than the dungeon, that was for sure.

The bed was huge, queen sized, perhaps, and Bulma figured this was a guest room reserved only for Game Winners. There was a big dresser and a nice sized closet (oh hell, how she'd missed her closet), and a bathroom was off to the side, not too huge, but much bigger than any average hotel room bathroom. It had a separate tub and shower, and decent walking space, as well as a full sink and vanity beside the toilet. Bulma hadn't felt so pampered in ages, even though she remembered Capsule Corporation having rooms much bigger and nicer, but jeez, after what she'd put up with previously…this was heaven.

Vegeta put his hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her awed daze, and when she turned around, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her until she was dizzy.

_Geta! _ she cried. _My head hurts! _

He stopped and looked at her, his dark eyes roaming about her face. "You won," he said, still a bit awed.

She smiled. _I know. I told you I would. _Excitement danced in her blue eyes, but then she frowned. _What's the matter? _

His brows had knitted, and his jaw clenched. "I…I thought you…Dammit, Bulma, I thought you were dead, you stupid girl!"

Any other time, she'd have been sorely offended, and given him a sharp verbal lashing, but she felt and understood his worry, so she just grinned at him and touched the sides of his face gently. _I promised you I'd win, _she reminded him. _I told you I would. And winning requires survival, doesn't it? _

Vegeta grasped her wrists in his hands and pulled her fingers away from his cheeks, shaking his head. "I couldn't _feel _you," he ground out. "I was so afraid that I'd lost you, dammit…" he squeezed her arms until they almost hurt, and still she could feel him shaking with restraint. He pressed her knuckles against his mouth, scenting her as though he wasn't truly sure she was real.

Bulma bit her lip in guilt. _I'm sorry, Vegeta…I blocked you. I was scared that you were trying to read my mind while I was dying…I didn't want you to feel that. I was too out of it to think it through properly, and when I woke up, I'd forgotten about it. _

"Stupid!" he shouted. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! If you were going to die, I'd want to be there so you didn't die alone! Don't you ever shut me out like that again!"

She winced at his sharp tone, not expecting him to be so angry with her. Suddenly, she found herself being crushed in his arms, with his face buried in her neck.

"Stupid, _stupid_ girl," he murmured. "Stupid bakarra."

She was so happy to hear him call her by that name that the day's events seemed to come crashing down on her then; she had fought and killed and won and now he was _hers_.

She burst into tears and cried into his shoulder. Her should shook so badly that her knees just caved out from under her, and she dragged him to the floor with her. He curled his tail around her waist and ran his fingers through her short hair, studying the clipped hair. Trying to make light of the situation, he muttered, "I like it."

Bulma made a strange hiccuping sound, like laughter. _It probably looks awful, _she chuckled. _First haircut I've had by knife._

"You're beautiful," he admitted quietly.

She looked up at him, and he brushed away her tears with his knuckles. She gave a watery smile and smoothed his knitted brows. _It's finally over, _she said.

He returned a very small smile, and his hand moved to the base of her neck. Bulma felt her stomach flutter as he leaned closer, her lips parting – _oh my God, he's going to kiss me – _and her eyes closing.

He watched her expression fondly for a moment before he closed his eyes too, and they were so close that their noses were touching and he could feel her breath float over his mouth –

Shiver burst into the room then, whooping with victory, and the two teens leapt back from each other in mortal embarrassment.

"You did it, B!" the Ice-jin cried, picking Bulma up from the ground and dancing around the room. "That was fantastic! I'm so proud of you!"

Bulma grimaced. _Shiver, for God's sake, my head hurts! Put me down. _

"Oops," Shiver laughed. She seemed completely oblivious as to what she'd interrupted (either that, or completely unapologetic) and she sat the human down on the bed and immediately started chatting the girl's ear off.

Vegeta folded his arms and glowered at the pink alien, livid, his tail thumbing heavily against the floor.

* * *

><p>"I thought she'd never leave," Vegeta groaned once Shiver was gone, two hours later.<p>

Bulma smiled. _She's just excited. I feel like squealing and jumping around myself, actually. _

He growled. "Don't you even think about it, Little One."

She giggled and winked at him. _Just once? _

"No. You're banshee squealing would kill me…Bulma, I mean it, don't you dare –"

She squealed and pounced on him, much to both his chagrin and amusement, and he let them fall back on the mattress. For the first time in ages, they genuinely laughed.

_I won, I can't believe I won! _Bulma cried happily.

"I can't, either," Vegeta teased, pinching her arm. "You're so scrawny and weak."

She smacked his bare chest, glaring at him. _Hey – _

"I was kidding," he said, shaking his head at her. He frowned; a thin scar on her bare arm had caught his attention, and he was sure there were many more that he just couldn't see. He sighed, then pillowed his head under one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, squeezing her. Both of them were quiet, too embarrassed and prideful to bring up the kiss that had very nearly happened, never mind try it again.

Bulma smiled when his tail curled around her leg and squeezed him back, burying her face in his chest. _We're safe, for now, _she said, as though it hadn't really sunk in yet.

He merely kissed the top of her head, silent, and a rumbling purr surface from his chest. They'd fall asleep like that a half hour later, Bulma murmuring their lullaby in their minds.

_Just close your eyes  
>You'll be alright<br>Come morning light,  
>You and I'll be safe and sound...<em>

The Games were over.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. Finished. There. <strong>

**Now, I've gone back and read this story over and let me tell you, most of the things in previous chapters make me cringe. CRINGE I SAY. **

**So, I am going to slowly start going back and majorly revising. Less stupid fangirl things and more stuff that makes sense. I recommend that once I start this process for you to read it again, because there is going to be a lot of stuff different. **

**Anyhow, I hope you liked this chapter. **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


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